


Second Chances

by kissing2cousins



Category: Stargate - Fandom, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Destruction of Earth, M/M, Moving On, Time Travel, dream - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-01-09 15:15:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 44
Words: 135,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1147509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissing2cousins/pseuds/kissing2cousins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In an attempt to avert the occupation and destruction of the Earth Jack and Daniel make a hard decision to prevent the invasion from ever happening that separates both of them--sending them worlds apart.</p>
<p>"...Daniel was lost in the issue of morality.  Jack was selfish.  If he could save Earth from complete annihilation, no matter what the cost, he would take it.  Of course, he hadn't quite considered his own personal loss."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ***some dialogue through-out the fic is canon, taken directly from the episode "Children of the Gods"***
> 
> No plagiarism intended

ADF

 

“Jack…” he moaned breathlessly, “Jack…”

The archeologist was stretched out on the queen sized mattress, arms pinned above his head by a strong commanding grip, as another hand unbuttoned the top of his jeans.  He could feel the hot moist breath of his lover, kissing his stomach before his hands were released and his jeans were opened fully to reveal his engorged cock.  He felt a brush of rough stubble against the sensitive skin before soft lips parted and his lovers mouth descended over his erection, making his abdominals tense in response.  He moaned as the man’s mouth pulled back, nearly off and then thrust back downwards, taking more of his length into his hot mouth.  He brought his hands down, tangling his fingers in his lover’s salt and pepper hair, caressing, massaging, and pulling with the movement of the man’s ministrations.  He was nearing his end, feeling his muscles tensing for the climax that he was so close to, and he called his lover’s name again, “Jack, yes…Jack!”

His body sprang upright, not with climax but with the shock and bewilderment of waking from the fantasy.  The air was cool, the room was dark.  There was a breeze from the open windows that wafted over his naked skin, raising bumps on his flesh with its tender caress.  He could see nothing but the dark forms of objects, yet he knew where he was.  In that moment, it was not where he wished he could be.

The man brought a hand to his brow, pushing the dark fringe of his bangs back behind one ear, before washing his palms over his face.  There was wetness under his dark lashes, the feel of the hot tears shocking him—was he crying?  He angrily wiped the wetness away, denying their existence by disposing of them.  He cursed then and banged his closed fist against his forehead, condemning his sleepless mind and its wonderings.

A gentle touch alerted him to the movement beside him on the rough straw mattress and he turned away from the woman beside him.  His feet touched the grass matt beside the mattress and he leaned forward, holding his head in his hands, unsure what to do—compelled to leave by his tumultuous emotions and yet reminded to stay by his conscience.  Then thin fingers came to his back, running up and down over his shoulder blades in a soothing circular motion, as he felt the warmth of her body curling around him from behind.  Her small chin came to his shoulder as she leaned into him, her soft dark curls spilling past her and down his front.  Her full lips pressed a caring kiss to his cheek, as her arms came around his chest.  His dream had woke her.

“It is alright, my Dan’yel.  I am here.” Her melodic voice whispered, soothingly, as a gentle hand came up to smooth his hair away from his face, as he had seen her do to their upset child, “Was it another of the nightmares?”

He lied and shook his head, yes.  This was worse than the nightmares.  Those he had started to become accustomed to—you’d think one would after six years of them.  He couldn’t bring himself to tell her of this dream—of Jack.  He had promised himself—not ever—she could never know.

Sha’uir’s hands pulled back on his shoulders, a gentle pressure that was directing him to lay back in the bed by her side.  The archeologist’s mind was racing—his pulse thundered in his chest, thoughts were jumbling together with memories that he had long ago tried to bury, a cold sweat beaded on his forehead.  He couldn’t lay down with her—not now, not like this.  His shoulder jerked forward, out from under her touch, more awkward and offensive than he had intended, and he stood.  He kept his back to her, unable to accept the hurt he knew he would see in the honey speckled depths of her dark eyes.  “I need some air,” he excused himself hastily, snatching his home spun robe from where he had discarded it earlier and then his glasses.  He slipped the robe over his head, bringing it down to cover his naked form with the crude floor length garment, before he all but ran from the room—and from her.

Their home was modest.  A crude structure of limestone, mud, and wood that was tangled in with the many other homes that were woven together into the mosaic-like construction of the city.  From the bedroom he slipped down the narrow hallway and out the curtained entrance, stepping out into the open air onto the system of boardwalks and ladder’s that criss-crossed between the buildings over the empty street below.  The breeze outside was stronger, rustling the low hem of his robe about his ankles, as he padded his way, as silent as a cat, upwards to the roof of their home.  As he crawled over the lip of the flat roof his body was bathed in the silvery light cast from the three moons that orbited Abydos. 

The man stood alone on the roof top.  Here he was nearly at the highest point within the city, only the protective walls reached higher than the roof of Kasuf’s home.  The dessert stretched out all around him like an endless ocean of silver sand, with its ever changing dunes that rose and fell with the whims of the winds that pushed them.  The only thing that interrupted the meeting of sand and sky was the soft haze of the distant naquadah mines of Ra and the tip of the deceased god’s pyramid, long since abandoned by the Abydonians—cursed in their eyes by the atrocities they were submitted to there when enslaved by the Goa’uld. 

The moon Edfu was followed by its sisters, Nuruto and Dja’Net, rising high into the cloudless night sky, their beautiful glow drowning out the twinkle of stars nearest them.  Basking in their glow the man spread his arms, the long sleeves of his robe gently swaying in the night’s calm breeze, and he took a long deep breath, savoring the smells of the extinguished cook fires, limestone, and the foulness of the mastadges in their pens.  This was Nagada.  This was his home now—again.  And he hated it.  All of it.

He released the breath.  It came out of him in a gasp, followed by a sob, and his shoulders shuddered as his arms fell at his sides and he felt the hot salty tears overwhelm his lashes to trail down his cheeks.  He cried.  He cried for his lost Earth, for his cramped apartment with his dusty artifacts and fish, for Stargate Command and his lost teammates.  But most of all he cried for Jack.

To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2

When the sobs had stopped and Daniel had rubbed the evidence from his cheeks, he was sitting slouched forward over crossed legs on the rooftop, alone in the moonlight of the silent night.  The ache inside of him was lust and longing mixed with self-pity and a deep loathing that the archeologist always hated to admit lurked within him.  The dream had awoke something inside of him that he had thought he had taken care of—thought he had forgotten, buried, destroyed…long ago.  Yet his erection was a testament to that failure.  He wanted to ignore the ache growing in his cock, but his hand was under his robe and on his member before long, the images of Jack from the dream fueling the steady rhythm of his strokes.

Daniel imagined Jack in his mind’s eye, gripping his hips with an uninhibited directness that sparked his own desire, pushing his head gently down to the mattress as the Colonel pressed the tip of his prick into him.  The thrust would be quick and deep, making Daniel moan with the pleasure of the lube slicked entry.  His fingers added more pressure to their grip as the archeologist imagined the strong thrusts that would follow, the Colonel palming him with one hand and holding his hip tightly with the other.  The sound of Jack’s voice, gruffly moaning the words, “Yes, yes…”, then his name, “yes, Danny…” before the scientist climaxed.

Daniel felt the liquid hot seed slip over his fingers, as the let the orgasm rock his body, still seeing the look of satisfaction in Jack’s coffee colored eyes.  As his body finished with a last couple of twitches and muscle spasms, he wiped the white liquid from his hand on the inside of the robe, cleaning himself quickly—trying to swallow the rising shame that seemed to be clinging to back of his throat.  His wife was sleeping below and here he was, masturbating to the memories of a life he had left behind—that he had lost.  That he could never return to.

It had been six years and just about 3 months since his world had been obliterated and he was given his second chance to relive it all over again—to change what had come to pass.  He felt that it had been too long since he and the Colonel had found themselves making that fateful decision that had undone time and sent them spiraling backwards to the year 1995.  Ra had already been destroyed, the Abydonian’s had been freed, and Daniel had found himself alone amongst the celebrating, just trying to figure out what had happened.  It had been a fucked up re-entrance into reality.  He had made a spectacle, dumbfounded by the sight of his dead wife there before him, alive and well and in his arms.  It had taken him hours to realize that Jack and Kawalsky and Ferreti were already long gone—back on Earth.  The gate was already dismantled and buried.  Daniel had felt satisfied to relive his life with the unimaginable gift of his wife returned to him, without much thought.  This was his second chance.

Life had gone on, time had passed.  It had been a milestone to pass the day he dreaded and yet hoped would come—when he would see that Kleenex box come through the gate.  Of course, with the gate still buried it was impossible, yet it lurked at the back of his mind like a specter, haunting him of the day when Sha’uir had been taken by Apophis and infested with his snake-queen.  That dreadful day had passed without anyone else noticing.  Daniel had drove his darling wife crazy, following her every footstep, closer to her than her shadow, til twilight had come—then he made love to her and refused to let her go for the rest of the evening.  Since then the scientist had lived a little lighter, allowing his past fears of the tyrannous Goa’uld to slip to the back of his mind.  He worried less after that, hoping Abydos would not be effected now in this life by the false gods.  Perhaps their travels through time had altered reality.  Maybe it was enough to spare him and these people from the horrors that he had witnessed in the previous life that he had known them.

The archeologist had drowned himself in the mediations that Kasuf had placed upon him, becoming all that more ingrained into the people’s politics and society.  He helped the elders and his father in law transition Nagada and the Abydonians into this new era of freedom.  Daniel had watched the people shed the shackles of Ra’s customs and rituals, embracing a new found culture of their own, with the fascination of his scholar’s mind.  The city had prospered.  The people were happy and safe.  Skaara had ensured that much, devoting his life to the little he had gleaned from Jack and the airmen.  He spent his time raising up an army of his own for the continued defense of the city.

The boy was a natural born leader and the scholar had watched him grow into a strong young man, training soldiers without the slightest instruction, only his intuition and determination.  The militia protected the city nowadays mostly from sand storms and droughts, aiding the others when needed.  Nagada had been lucky these six years.  No other threats had come knocking to disturb the peace that had settled over the city.  Life had moved on and so had Daniel Jackson.

There came a soft knock against the limestone side of the roof and the archeologist whirled around, tightening his robes to hide his conduct, as he caught a glimpse of bobbing dark curls piled high atop the head a child.  He couldn’t keep his lips from smiling, at the sight of the small girl, hiding below the lip of the roof, thoroughly believing that she was still unseen.  “Cindel Samantha Jackson…” he called in his deepest patronizing tone, “who do you think you are fooling?”

The girl’s small head bobbed up like a buoy held under water, settling so just her tiny cherub nose and bright gaze were visible over the rockwork ledge.  His ice blue eyes shone back at him, through the irises of his daughter’s dark lashed eyes, big and wide with a curiosity and mischievousness that often vexed the scientist and her mother.  At times her blithe disregard for her own safety made him thankful she was their only offspring—Sha’uir had conceived a second time, only to brush with death with a sudden and violent miscarriage.  She had barely survived the blood loss and they had never conceived since. 

The little eyes stared at him, blinking now and then, completely unfazed by his tone or his question.  She waited patiently until her father had given up.  He sighed and gestured for the girl to join him.  The small girl scampered up the rest of the ladder in a flash of cream and burgundy robes, her bare feet nearly soundless as she moved, each step like a wispy fairy’s dance as she crossed the roof to settle on his knee.  His arms wrapped about the child and her small back curved to relax against his chest, her head of dark curls falling onto his shoulder as her large eyes gazed skyward. 

The girl was five now—Daniel always found it hard to believe when he held her close how he took for granted the ways that she had changed and grown.  It was all a testament to his time here on Abydos and it baffled him to be reminded of how long it had been since the time shift.  Time had reverted but he certainly hadn’t—he was sure of that.  The shift had not adhered to Hollywood’s textbook time travel.  He had not found his younger self here.  The machine must had somehow recognized who he was in the timeline.  He knew Sam would have been able to explain it, had she survived to make the time-jump, but all he knew, was that he was himself. 

Sha’uir had not realized much difference in him—save the strange difference in his length of hair.  His hair had been longer when he had taken that first miraculous trip through the stargate and when the alien device had reset the clock he was sent back to her with the short crop that he had adopted after Hathor had cut his hair—he had allowed it to grow back out since then, longer was easier.  He had explained the peculiar incident away and everyone had believed him—he was the shalok’gul, the god slayer.  He felt older.  The technology, no matter how powerful, had not been his fountain of youth.  He was still the same Daniel that had lost his wife, adopted a family out of the teammates the SGC had given him, defeated system lords and fought the mechanical Replicators.  Holding his little girl in his arms, he felt like a different man.

“How old are you, daddy?” came the tinkling sound of her small voice, impetuous and ever inquiring.  Her insatiable need to always question anything and everything made him wonder if he had irritated his parents so as a child.  His wife swore up and down that it was not a trait she had passed on to the girl and her family agreed.

Daniel huffed, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of his interrupted sleep hit him with the onslaught of her battery of questions.  More would undoubtedly follow.  Her blue gaze shifted from the heavens to her father’s face and he squeezed his eyes shut to ignore the stare.  He brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose from under the rim of his glasses, as he heard her repeat the question.  In a rush to answer her he returned the volley with another question, asking the child, “How old have I told you that I am?”

Her tiny shoulders shifted up and down in a quick shrug, as she shook her head and honestly admitted, “I forgot.  How old are you?”

Daniel, with his eyes still closed and his nose still pinched, lectured his daughter, reminding her curtly, “I have already told you, Cindel.  If you can’t remember than I must deduce that you are not listening to me when I answered you the first time.  So, I will not tell you again.  You need to try to remember or go rustle your mother out of bed.”

The girl’s lips pursed with her frustration and instinctually that fat bottom lip shot out, demonstrating such.  She folded thin arms around her chest and glowered up at her father with those fierce blue eyes, past dark lowered eyebrows.   _Now I know why Jack could never refuse that look,_ he thought suddenly.  Remembering the man dredged up his former feelings and the resulting handy work of his lust—Daniel felt ashamed and tried to push it from his mind once more.  Mentally laying the road block back in place, brick by brick, that had held such memories at bay when he was interrupted.

“Daaa-ddy…” she intoned, drawing out the word to reflect her impatience.  The man steeled himself to her pestering, remaining silent.  The girl groaned and sighed in exasperation, announcing, “You’re eighty-five.”

Daniel guffawed with laughter in both shock and disbelief.  He felt old but that was a stretch.  The girl had her numbers mixed up again, often times struggling to deferentiate between the Abydonian number system and the English that Daniel was teaching her and her mother.  “No, I certainly am not.” He replied, hugging her closely, explaining, “I would be an old, old, man.  Older than you’re, Haleeb Kasuf.”  He pecked a kiss on her cheek and the girl squirmed to bring a hand up and swipe it off.

“Twenty-five!” she tried, to the shake of his head.  “Sixty-five?” No.  “Fifty-five?” No. “Ten-five?” No.

“Daddy?” the girl asked, suddenly sounding as though she had given up and was about to stray to another topic, “How did you travel the stars?”

“You know that answer as well, Cindel.” Daniel replied, in a quiet patient tone, as he shifted her to a more comfortable position on his lap. 

The girl’s small arm shot up to the stars above, pointing past the three large pale moons in the direction that he had shown her before.  “The chappa’ai brought you from Earth.”

“That’s right.” He said.

“You defeated the false god and married, mama.  Uncle Skaara says there’s more.” She rambled, suddenly gripped his attention.  “I wanna know more, Daddy.  Where does the Chappa’ai go?  Why don’t you take Uncle Skaara and mama and me home to Earth?  Why does the spinning ring have red lights and glow blue like water?”

Daniel was confused.  His daughter was asking very specific questions.  She had never seen the stargate.  He would not allow it.  The stargate was buried outside of Ra’s pyramid and he ensured that it stayed that way.  Skaara was being too liberal with the girl—something Daniel and his wife despised.  The gate was history and they did not need her uncle filling her head with a fantastical view of the very object that had enslaved their people for so many years.  He cursed his brother in law’s callous disregard for their wishes, before gently shaking his head at his daughter to reinforce, “The Chappa’ai is no more, Cindel.  It was taken apart so that no more false gods could come to your home and hurt you or anyone else.  Always remember, kal’ma, that you are free.  Your mother and her people were forced to be slaves and that the Chappa’ai was a large part of that.  We are all safe because it has been buried.”

The girl listened with an expression of boredom, straining to wait for him to finish before she petulantly launched another barrage of questions at him, “But how does stuff come through the blue pool?  Who is sending it?  And what is a box filled with soft white papers?  Not even Uncle Skaara knows, Daddy.”

“Wait, Cindel…slow down.” Daniel said, shushing the girl with an index finger pressed to her lips.  His heart was pounding.  He stomach was doing nauseating summersaults in his torso.  He was confused and flustered, mentally pausing to try and gather his run away thoughts, accusations, and fears.  Finding a footing, he gripped his daughter’s tiny arms in his hands.  She flinched with the force he exerted in his haste, as he looked deep into her wide eyes and demanded to know, “Cindel, have you seen the Chappa’ai and its circle of blue light?”

The girl’s head nodded up and down…’yes’.


	3. Chapter 3

Jack had always enjoyed the silence that came with the cover of night and the dazzling start to the stars reign of the sky above.  Sitting out on the small but comfortable observation platform on the roof of his home, with his head lowered, gazing into the eye piece of the long barreled mid-range telescope, Jack enjoyed the beauty of the twinkling stars and the constellations that they formed.  Although he had tried numerous times to forget, those forms still reminded him of the delicately shaped chevrons on the stargate—and of Daniel’s long fingers expertly dialing each…dialing the address home.

Since the shift Jack had officially retired from the Air Force and Stargate Command, as he had tried to do when he had returned from Abydos the first time.  It was odd to one moment by adjusting the clog-like dials of the alien device that had thrown them backwards in time and then the next be standing on the other side of the gate, returning to General West and Stargate Command, without Daniel.  It had taken him a while to shake off the shock.  Kawalsky had laughed and Ferreti had mocked him, labeling him as ‘gate-shocked’.  Once he figured out what year it was he had slowly come to terms with what had happened—sort of.

There was no reversing the shift.  It had been meant to right what had gone so horribly wrong in the first place.  Daniel had theorized that they could possibly rewind time back to any known date, without really knowing where they would end up.  The linguist had been unable to understand the cuneiform-like language etched onto the device but between the two of them Carter and Daniel had deduced that it was some kind of time warping technology.   Then they were captured.  Teal’c had been executed before their very eyes and the Major had been tortured to death, only to be open up like frog in a high school biology lab.  The two of them had just barely managed to escape and get back to the alien device.  Jack had made the executive decision to use it, when Daniel was lost in the issue of morality.  Jack was selfish.  If he could save Earth from complete annihilation, no matter what the cost, he would take it.

Of course, he hadn’t quite estimated his personal loss. 

The Colonel had done his duty though.  He had convinced the General to try dialing Abydos again, to at least ensure that Daniel was there—that he was alive.  But the chevrons wouldn’t engage.  The West administration had dubbed the other stargate destroyed and Jack secretly hoped it had been buried, as they had promised so many years ago.  Perhaps this time Daniel had listened.  With the Abydos gate inaccessible the stargate program grew quiet.  Without the temple of Abydos with the lists of addresses Carter would never figure out that stellar shift was the reason the other addresses wouldn’t work and Jack hoped to hell that Earth would be safe.  He had West agree to the precautions of the iris on the stargate, as a fail safe, even though the program was grinding to a halt.  That measure brought him piece of mind and he tried to move on.

Retirement had so far not proven to be all that it was cracked up to be.  The time away from the air force had given him the chance that he had never had to reunite and fix what he had broken between him and Sara and it had worked for a while.  Eventually they still separated, at least on more amicable terms than the last time.  Jack had found closure for his son’s passing through the crystalline alien, the Unity, but because the stargate program ended she never got that chance and it ultimately spelled an end to his attempt at patching things up.  Some things just weren’t meant to last.

The ex-Colonel found himself in a kind of perpetual stasis.  He wanted to travel but didn’t.  He hated going much further than his cabin, always feeling oddly anxious to be too far from the secret mountain complex and the gate.  He wanted to love again but on every date he took his heart always ached and the sex was ruined by memories of how the paler of Daniel’s eyes became cloudy with his lust.  He wanted to lose himself gazing at the stars through his expensive telescope but even they seemed to betray him.  The memories he had of making love to one archeologist was like a curse, affecting his brain and disabling his body’s regular motor functions. 

Tonight was no different.  The man wondered why he even tried to stargaze anymore.  It always made his gut twist into knots and was often ended with either a cold shower or a date with his hand. 

The Colonel’s relationship with the archeologist had been only a little complicated.  It had not been long after the scientist’s wife had died that the two of them had discovered a deeper element to their relationship that he figured had always been there, unacknowledged.  Something about when they made love just seemed right.  They both had felt it.  There was a strength there, safety, and a trust that was unbreakable.  They had loved one another in a way that neither of them had even thought was possible.  They hadn’t gotten married or moved in together—nothing weird like that—but they had enjoyed one another.  That was until that fateful gate to P53 652. 

Jack missed Daniel.  He missed the excited shine in his blue eyes when he would launch into a rambling lecture on what some broken old pot meant or some chicken scratch on a cave wall.  He missed the furrow between the man’s thick brows when he would stand his ground and defend his opinion, more determined than any soldier.  He missed the feel of the younger man’s lean body, the tense of his lithe muscles beneath him.  He hadn’t thought of losing Daniel when he had rewrote history.  Jack missed Daniel.  There was no more.  That was all she wrote.  End of story.

The man sighed and leaned back from the eye piece of the telescope, just as the sound of tires crunching gravel in his drive way caught his attention.  He turned in his seat to see a car pulling into his up to the house.  Two soldiers got out.  His brows furrowed as he recognized Samuels.  This was eerily familiar. He drove down his assumptions with the fact that the stargate program was still closed down and Apophis had not raised his ugly snake head to wreak havoc on Earth, as he had before, due to Jack’s precautions.  It did little to qualm the fluttering in his gut.

“Colonel Jack O’Niell?” Samuels asked, as he climbed the steps to join the man on the small observation deck.

“Retired.” The ex-Colonel informed the soldier.

“I’m Major Samuels, sir.”

“I know.” Jack groaned, slinging his arm over the back of the chair he sat in, turning slightly to face the other man in the blue uniform.

“I’m the General’s Executive Officer,” Samuels continued, unhampered by the Colonel’s comment.  The thin man, with his dark hair slicked back awkwardly accentuating a receding hair line, clasped his hands in front of the blue uniform.  “I’m under orders to bring you to see General Hammond, Sir.”

Jack refrained from admitting that he could have guessed that as well.  He didn’t like this.  It was all too similar.  Something had happened.  Something had gone wrong or they wouldn’t be back here to get him.  Intrigued and terrified at the same time Jack had gone back to the SGC with Samuels and had continued to play through the same set of events he had years earlier—events he thought he had prevented.

The retired Colonel was enlightened to the fact that one persistent Captain Carter—who he should have guessed would not accept no as an answer—had convinced the good General to forego the safety feature of the iris while she ran addresses through the system, all in an effort to find a new destination.  Apophis had eventually found them first and had come through, just as he had before, taking the airman with him and killing four others.  The General had used the bomb to convince Jack to admit that the stargate on Abydos had not been destroyed and Jack with the gate address engaging, had sent the Kleenex box through the stargate, hoping to hell that Daniel was on the other side—just like last time.  Maybe together they could still avert the troubles that they both had seen before, that would eventually lead to the occupation and destruction of Earth by not the Goa’uld, but the far darker, far more dangerous Vashen’s. 


	4. Chapter 4

Daniel had left his daughter at home, crying and guilt stricken, confused by his sudden rash temperament, as he had taken off to find Skaara.  The young man shared a lower section of Kasuf’s house and Daniel had raked back the thick draping curtain-door, barging into the small mud room.  It was only big enough for the small straw mattress on its wooden pallet and a few crude wooden spikes drove into the walls for the few belongings that Skaara had.  One of the P90 rifles that the soldiers had left behind was hung on display above the head of the bed, where the boy lay sprawled beneath the mastadge-skin blanket.  The scientist ripped back the blankets, yelling and bellowing in his rage at the youth, “What have you done, Skaara?!”

The young man rolled over, the long black tendrils of his dreaded and plated hair following his movement, as he was shocked out of his slumber by the brusque intrusion.  A dark skinned young girl that had been snuggled to her lover’s side gave a short cry of surprise, her small hands grappling the blankets to cover her nakedness.  Cracking a dark eye Skaara quickly assessed the danger and groaned, flopping his head back down on the mattress.  The youth blinked a couple of times and yawned, ignoring the need for any kind of haste, as a young girl scrambled to gather her clothes.  Daniel angrily averted his eyes for the child’s sake as she dressed.  She skittered out of them room like a doe bounding to safety, wide eyed and pale.  Once she was gone Daniel reached down and grabbed Skaara’s bicep, reefing him from the straw mattress rougher than the boy had anticipated.

“Na’nai, na’nai, Dan’yel!  Awake, awake!  What’s wrong?!” Skaara angrily defended, pulling his arm free of his brother in laws grip, still bleary eyed from deep slumber and now agitated, unused to being man-handled.  He tried to push some distance between them in the cramped room but Daniel grabbed the back of the boys neck, pulling him so close their foreheads banged together, making the other wince.  His voice came out of him in a sinister hiss, as he accused, “Where is the stargate?!”

Skaara tried to pull away from his brother in law, but when the man resisted, the boy broke the intimidating embrace with a quick and skilled chop to the other man’s bicep, disrupting the muscles flex.  The boy planted two firm hands on the other’s chest and pushed Daniel back from him, as his dark eyes squinted in anger and disbelief.  “Gonach!  It’s not yet day!  Leave off with your crazy!” The boy retaliated in his broken English, peppered with his more natural Abydonian, irately gesturing towards the door, as he indignantly bellowed, “Go back to my sister’s bed if you wanna’ fuck someone!  You ran off my fun, leave me sleep til day comes.”

Daniel muscled all of his reserve and managed to hold himself back from clobbering the petulant youth.  With his fists white knuckled at his sides he steeled himself to explain to the foolish young man what lies he had just so innocently become privy to.  “You took the Chappa’ai, didn’t you?” his patience lost the scholar couldn’t wait for a response.  He launched into a tyraid of accusations, his rage and fear spilling out of him in a resilient verbal attack against the young perpetrator.  “You couldn’t do as you were told!  You couldn’t leave the fucking thing buried in the ground where it was safe!  You couldn’t trust me!  Do you even know what will happen to you and your sister?!  To your people?!  Do you want to be a slave again?!  Do you want a snake in your head to go with all the rocks?!”

The boy scowled furiously at Daniel, his filled out biceps crossing over his chest, as he drew himself up to stand resolute.  In a quiet, firm, voice the boy said, “I don’t know what kind of crazy you talk of.  I have done nothing.”

Daniel shook his head at the boy.  He pointed his finger at his brother in law, brusquely demanding, “Don’t lie to me, Skaara, I know you’ve done it.  Did you know that Cindel has seen it?  She follows your every step like a fucking shadow, did you think she wouldn’t find it?  That you could keep this secret from all of us?!”

The sweat was beading on the boy’s brow, beneath the dreaded locks of course dark hair.  He was lying and now he knew that he was caught.  He exhaled crossly and changed tack, cursing his niece, as he admitted defensively, “You people fear too much.  We beat the false god.  We should use the chappa’ai.  We should travel the stars, Dan’yel!”

The archeologist pinched the bridge of his nose again.  His head and his heart were pounding.  He was confused, angry, distraught, and so frustrated.  The boy’s deluded fantasies of what the stargate could do for the people of Abydos once again shone like stars in the dark chocolate color of his iris’.  It had been a while since Daniel had seen it, the same wonder he had felt when he had discovered the cover stone’s secret reflected in the face of his brother in law.  The scholar had tried everything to temper the boys natural curiosity with fear, short of actually admitting the complete truth of his past and the time shift.  He had thought he had succeeded and now he was painfully aware of the truth.  He tried to reiterate to the boy the fears he had.  “There is more than one of them, Skaara.  I have told you this.  That is why the ring needed to be buried, so that the other false gods would not be able to come here and turn you all back into slaves.”

Skaara turned impetuously away from his brother in law and snatched up his animal-skin pants and wool jerkin.  “Nothing has come through the chappa’ai, Dan’yel!  No false gods, no O’Niell, no nothing!” the boy snapped back, as he dressed.

“The Kleenex box…” the words were nearly a whisper.  Cindel had said she saw a ‘box filled with soft white papers’. _Jack…_ “That’s not true.”

The boy froze, all of his muscles tensing at once.

“A small box came through the stargate, correct?” Daniel asked, his voice trembling with the effort of each word.  The sudden shift in his tone caught Skaara’s undivided attention.  The boy stiffened, his brother’s anxiety palpable, and nodded his head slowly in answer.

“When?” he asked.

“Last day,” the boy stopped his dressing, one arm slung through the military issued utility vest he was never without, as he answered his brother now with truth and respect, “just after mid-day.”

“Then there’s still time.  We must go back to the gate, w-we have to send if back.” Daniel said, rambling in a dour voice as he paced, speaking the thoughts that were jumbling in his mind aloud, “I have to let them know not send the bomb.  Gotta’ find out what’s happened on Earth.” The he stopped and looked back up at the stunned youth.  “Where is the stargate?”


	5. Chapter 5

The archeologist gazed at the dark ring, looming before him in the darkness of the dark cave.  He turned away from it, cursing the blasted thing and the treacherous emotions that swirled within him there, with the sight of it.  Seeing the intricately crafted technology gleaming black and monstrous in the orange light of their burning torches bombarded the scholars mind with memories, wonderful and horrendous, exhilarating and gut-wrenching, confusing his senses and his body.  The man had stiffened before it, standing high in the echoing cavern, deep within a tunnel of Ra’s mine.  His eyes had studied it, the blue of his iris’s darting about the circular ring, checking each symbol, examining the triangular chevron locks and their crystals.  It was all there.  Each part of it was in its place.  It was perfect.

His eyes left the ring itself and the next thing he saw was the Dial Home Device positioned just off to the right of the gate.  He came to the pedestal, his mind lost in his memories, series of gate addresses flashing through his mind.  His hands gripped the solid circular rim of the device, gliding about its perimeter before tenderly skimming over the symbols engraved on each of the keys about the red orb-shaped center.  The tips of his fingers stopped on the last symbol his hands came to, tracing the raised circle before parting to slide down the inverted ‘V’.  _Earth.  Home.  Jack…_

His trance was broken when Skaara haphazardly kicked the tip of his sandaled foot against the mining tunnel’s floor, sending a small stone skittering over the rocks.  Daniel turned to the young man, who stood with his arms crossed over his black utility vest, looking bored and ashamed with himself.  His dark eyes were glued to the floor.  He was brooding. 

The two of them had left the home of their good-father in haste, stopping only to properly outfit themselves for the long walk to the mines.  Daniel had changed from the home spun robe into his earth clothing.  The green BDU’s were beaten and worn.  His wife had mended them where they had ripped but they still fit.  The black cotton tee was moth eaten around the hem and the collar but it was soft.  When he had the clothes on he was overcome with an odd sense of nostalgia.  He felt more like himself than he had in months. 

Sha’uir had demanded answers.  She questioned their haste and obscurity with her dark eyes narrowed in speculation and suspicion.  Her words were fiery and direct but Daniel remained resolute—he told her nothing.  The shouting earlier had been a simple disagreement, they would be gone for the day and possibly the evening, no she could not join them.  The scholar liked to think that he was a firm believer in equal rights between the sexes within a marriage, but for once he used the people’s customary right for the husband to have the final word and ordered his wife to stay in Nagada.  He didn’t want her anywhere near that thing.  Not now, not after she had been safe for so long.   

In the end there had been stubborn tears and a begrudging acceptance.  They had left the city with a few provisions and Skaara’s best runner, Granin.  Although the scholar hoped the precaution would not be necessary he could not allow himself to take a chance.  If something did come through the stargate or something else untoward was to happen, he wanted to make sure that Kasuf and Nagada would have some kind of warning.  Then they left the city behind them, taking two mastadges with them to speed their progress.

Granin rode one mastadge and the scholar had made sure to ride with his far more experienced brother.  The journey took a little over an hour with the aid of the animals sure footing and rhythmic gate, more than enough time for Daniel to question Skaara about the stargate.  To spare themselves another heated argument he forwent antagonizing the youth over his uncharacteristic indiscretion and instead focused on simpler details.  He had found out that the boy had agonized over the decision for years.  This was the result of his inability to accept the dismantling of the gate and he had only chosen to complete the task in secret after he had failed to sound his opinion during city meetings.  Daniel had never allowed the subject to be broached, especially not by the starry eyed little soldier.  Skaara had used the strength of his militia to move the device from where it had been buried outside the pyramid of Ra to the mines, to the very cave the three of them were standing in now, where the boy had been correct in assessing that no one would know.  If it had not been for the medaling curiosities of his mischievous daughter no one would have ever known. 

It had taken the militia a month to complete the move, using mastadges and elaborate pulley systems that had been filched from the mines and adapted for the purpose.  They had lost two of the powerful beasts from heat exhaustion and only one soldier had been injured when a rope had broken, but they had managed to erect the massive gate—an impressive feat for the boys young militia. 

The smooth curved stone of the DHD felt cold now in his fingers.  The cave was deep, dark and moist.  Daniel could feel the dampness in the air, clinging to his BDU’s and hair.  The light of the torches cast an eerie light over the device and the craggy stone walls of the cave.  The space was just barley large enough for the height and breadth of the massive ring, packed back within the bowl-shaped end of its length, providing only one way in and one way out.

“Here is the box, Dan’yel.” Skaara finally said, drawing the scholar’s attention away from the DHD and the faded memories that were cropping up in his mind.

Daniel followed the boy over to a long work bench positioned against the wall of the tunnel to the left of the gate.  The lanky teenage runner was slumped against the wall of the cave close by, seated on a low stool, arms and legs crossed, looking completely uninterested.  The top of the work bench was littered with a disarray of items, haphazardly collected and deposited there.  Pulleys, rope, leather reins, hammers and metal spikes, a chisel and pick.  Amongst all of these his eager eyes spotted the beige card board Kleenex box—or what was left of it.  The white tissues were carelessly discarded in a fluffy pile, at the back of the tabletop, and the box looked as though it had seen better days.  The card board ends had been ripped open and it was now just a shell of its former self.  The sight made Daniel a little sick to his stomach.  He swallowed hard, trying to ward off the odd dread that he felt.  It was just a Kleenex box.

The archeologist reached his trained hands forward to grasp the box, handling it with the delicacy and care that he his professor’s had engrained within him, as though it were a precious link to the past.  It was more so than he wanted to admit. 

“What is it, Dan’yel?” Skaara inquisitive voice insisted, breaking his concentration.

“It’s from Earth.” Daniel explained, as a smile slowly curled the corners of his mouth.  “We called it a Kleenex box.  The white papers inside are called tissues.  They are used to wipe your nose when you are sick or sad.”

The look of bewilderment and angry disappointment was priceless.  Daniel chuckled at his brother in law, clapping the boy’s drooping shoulders, comfortingly adding, “It was a gift from Colonel O’Niell.”

“O’Niell?” Skaara said incredulously, shaking his head.  It must have been frustrating for the boy to have finally admitted to the scholar that he had the stargate up and working, wondering and fantasizing about what the mysterious box could be that had come through the awe inspiring shining pool, only to find that it was essentially a box of snot rags.  “Why would O’Niell send this?  What is its meaning?  I don’t understand, Dan’yel.”

“No, I don’t suspect you can, Skaara.” Daniel sighed, moving to his canvas military issued pack he had brought with him.  He dug out the charcoal sticks he had packed with him to write on the box.  He would have preferred a pencil but he sadly had used the last inch of what he had originally packed with him on that first mission through the gate.  It would have been easier, he could have said more, and it would have been cleaner.  But Jack would be expecting the charcoal regardless, so he dug out the stick and knelt on the rock floor of the cave to write his message on the box.  As he wrote, he continued to explain, “It’s a joke between the Colonel and I, Skaara.  He is simply wanting to know if I am still here. If I wasn’t, no one would know what to do with a Kleenex box.”

Skaara’s dark eyes lit with enlightenment, wide and excited, as he pointed between the box and the ring, saying, “You send it back to Earth?  You can make the ring work, Dan’yel?”

Daniel smiled at the youth’s exhilaration.  Even Granin had sat up on the stool, his squinty dark eyes now interested in their happenings and conversation.  “I am going to try and send it back.  That’s all I can do.  We don’t know what is on the Earth’s side of the gate.  We will have to just wait and see what happens after we send the box back.”

“But O’Niell will return, no?” Skaara demanded, his hands clenched into fists of excitement.

Daniel shrugged his shoulders and he swiped the charcoal over the box to make the last letter of his message to the Colonel.  “Perhaps.  I really cannot say, Skaara.  We will just have to wait.”  When the scholar came to his feet again both the boys were at his side and at attention.  They were ready.

Skaara and his militia had not been able to dial the stargate.  It didn’t seem to matter how many times they dialed the address that Daniel and Sha’uir had found on the other cartouche they were unable to get the Stargate to engage all the chevrons.  The youth had said that he thought several of the symbols would not cooperate, which made the man a little concerned.  He was not a DHD specialist—that had always been Sam’s department—but if the box had come through from Earth than the gate was still functional.

Daniel motioned for the boys to join him at the DHD.  He handed the flattened box to the spindly youth Granin, before he rested his hands against the rim of the circular pedestals edging, leaning against the device as he methodically ran his eyes over each symbol.  Everything seemed to be correct.  There was no visible sign of damage or tampering, nothing that would explain the problem.  His tongue darted out over his bottom lip, a habit of concentration, as he mentally prepared himself for dialing home.  The scholar had not considered being nervous, yet his palms were sweaty, his heart was pounding, and there was fluttering in his gut. 

“Okay,” he said, taking a deep breath, his fingers twitching over top of the symbols.  He found the first symbol, Augriga, and when his fingers pushed down the key it began to glow.  The stargate came to life, dust flying from the ring as it ground to a start, stopping at the first chevron lock.  The device clicked and the chevron engaged, the crystal glowing a bright ruby-red in the ambient light of the cave.  Daniel’s hand moved to the next symbol, Cetus.  The gate spun again, stopping as the second chevron engaged.  The third symbol, Centauraus, engaged.  Cancer, engaged.  Scutum, engaged.  Daniel’s hand moved to Eridanus but when he pushed the key the entire DHD lost power.  The glow faded from the keys all at once with a sudden hum of deactivation.  The chevrons on the stargate clicked open and the gate address was lost.  Daniel’s brows furrowed.  _How infuriating._

“See, Dan’yel.  I said, no?  I said.” Skaara said, snorting in frustration as he flipped the stargate the bird and cursed in Abydonian.  Granin spit. 

Unimpressed with the bad habits the youth had picked up from the airmen, Daniel brought his hand up to lower the boys arms.  In a firm voice he reassured the two of them, “There’s most likely a problem with the DHD itself.  We may still be able to fix it.  Just let me think.”

Daniel had both watched and helped Sam work out various problems with the physical mechanics of the DHD on missions.  He traced his hands over the last two glyphs, Eridanus and Earth’s point of origin.  He knew that the power source of the device was the power crystal structure within.  He had watched Jack sketch the very detailed, very complicated, schematics of the DHD when he was possessed by the Ancient knowledge that had been downloaded into his brain, but the memory was fuzzy now, over a decade later.  He did remember that there were crystals not only within the red orb-centre, for power, and in beneath the keys, for connection.  He motioned to Skaara for his dagger, the one Kasuf had given the boy that he was never without, and the youth balked. 

“We need to access the power behind these keys, Skaara, unless you have a better tool I will need the knife.” Daniel explained with some impatience, flicking his finger’s in a beckoning motion at the sheath attached to the belt that secured the blade to the outside of the boys thigh.  With reluctance the Skaara handed the blade over and the man took the bone hilt in his hand expertly.  He guided the nose of the blade into the space between the keys, slipping it under the pad of the key itself.  Applying gentle pressure with his trained hands the engraved stone came free of the device with a satisfying ‘pop’.  Daniel removed the key and handed it gingerly to Skaara, as he began to examine the pointed tips of the multi-colored crystals beneath.  Each seemed fine.  No cracks, no damage.  Each crystal seemed to be where it was meant to be. 

Daniel moved to the next one, Earth’s glyph, popping the key off.  Below it seemed to be the same.  Each crystal was neatly packed into its designated slot. Nothing seemed out of place.  His teeth raked over his bottom lip, as he thought.  The scientist really had no idea what could be wrong.  He blew the sand that had collected between the keys away, then began to count the crystals beneath the keys.  When his fingers tapped lightly on the third red one, about as round as his pinky, the crystal shifted slightly in the slot.  His fingers pinched the pointed tip of the crystal, gently wiggling.  The crystal had a lot of play and when Daniel moved it downwards it dropped slightly, making a clicking sound.  He tried to move it again, but the crystal seemed to be rooted firmly in place. _Could that be it?  That seems too easy._ His hands checked the crystals beneath the other key, all seemed to be solidly in place. 

“Let’s try it again.” He instructed, placing the key pads back into place.  When he was finished he began to touch the glyphs again, dialing Augriga, Cetus, Centauraus, Cancer, Scetum, Eridanus, and Earth.  The inner ring of the gate whirled around to the address that it was given, each chevron glowing red as the glyphs were engaged.

With a surge of energy the watery vortex surged forward and then was violently sucked back, spreading into a stable surface as the connection to the Earth’s stargate was made.  The two boys smiled broadly before Skaara whooped loudly, punching his closed fist into the air.  Daniel smiled too.  Granin handed the cardboard box back to him and the scholar walked up to the shimmering surface of the wormhole’s event horizon.  The silvery light bathed his body, wafting shadows and reflections over him as it rippled and moved, and he stood before the awesome power of the device, admiring its simplistic beauty.  He lifted his right hand, allowing the tips of his fingers to pass through the watery surface, feeling it slip over his skin, as though he were plunging his hands into a pool.  The vortex was neither warm nor cold, giving him just the barest sensation of tickling as it rippled in a circular pattern about the digits that passed its surface.

The boys were watching from a distance, spellbound by the same captivation that Daniel shared.  Skaara was the first to move, coming to stand beside his brother in law.  His smile was a wide toothy grin, like a kid on Christmas, an intoxicating awe and exhilaration that was palpable throughout the room.  The youth brought his hands up and, swallowing hard, he tapped the surface of the shimmering pool.  He laughed heartily in amazement as the surface rippled and fluctuated from the disturbance.  They shared a knowing smile of wonder and then Daniel took the boys wrist, slowly pulling his hand back.  The boy was frustrated and his disappointment was unquestionable.  The scholar shook his head, reaffirming, “Not this time, Skaara.  I want to take you through the gate, more than anything, but…we must send the box first.  We need to let Jack know that we are here first.”

Skaara nodded, although his mouth was no longer a wide grin.  It was a thin tight line.  His almond shaped dark eyes watched Daniel slip the collapsed box into the ripples of the event horizon and when he let it go they stepped away.  The shimmering pool vanished with a zap of energy, leaving them once more in the orange glow of the torch light.

“Now, we wait.” Daniel said simply.


	6. Chapter 6

Jack couldn't explain all the different emotions that overcame him when he saw that beaten up piece of cardboard come through the rippling event horizon suspended within the inner ring of the stargate.  Elation, embarrassment, nervousness, love, fear…It had taken a conscious effort not to bound up the metal ramp to retrieve it.  Seeing the dark smudged streaks of charcoal on the side of it made him so happy that he laughed out right despite himself.  ‘Thx send more’.  His heart felt so big and pounded so hard he thought it might burst—or have a heart attack—it definitely wasn’t normal.

It had taken a cold shower in the locker room to get rid of the resulting erection—at least he knew where all the blood was going.  He had just enough time to deal with that, his home, and his reinstatement as General Hammond propelled the deserted SGC into action. 

The silo was a proverbial hive of action.  Soldiers were being shipped in, the infirmary was being restocked, and the ammunition closet was getting a make-over.  Six years of dust was being cleared from the base to make way for a new era of activity.  The halls were filled with a palpable sense of adventure, each man and woman filled with the excitement that only the chance of new discovery can bring.  It was infectious, even the General exuded the energy that comes along with the challenge of such a pioneering command.  Jack had forgot the dreaded fear of the Goa’uld and the others they had encountered on their numerous trips through the gate—he had pushed all of that to the back of his mind—his entire being was focused on one thing.  Finding one linguistically gifted archeologist on the alien planet.

Just thinking about seeing the archeologist again made Jack’s prick twitch, threatening to pitch a tent unpleasantly within the crotch of his uniform.  His Air Force blue’s didn’t suit  the look and he was forced to keep his hands clasped together in front of himself until he could be seated around the table of the debriefing room, ready to deliberate with the General over the team he would take through the gate to Abydos. 

Then there she was.  Jack had almost forgotten in his day dreaming of seeing and being close to Daniel’s lithe swimmer’s body again, that she would be there.  Carter entered the room looking just as young and pretty as she had the first day that he had met her, so long ago.  The last image that had been burned into his mind of the bright brave Major had been one he wished he could forget—her delicate features twisted and contorted by the pain that wracked her body, as she was tortured mercilessly by the Vashen.  Seeing her vibrant youthful features now, set with such determination, made the Colonel feel even older.  It split the age gap between them even wider, like a chasm opening up in the earth to swallow him whole.  She would eat him alive if he couldn’t get a hold of himself—time shift be damned—no one else knew seeing her there again was like seeing a ghost.  The jokes and snickers from his right helped him to shake the odd mix of feelings that had frozen him. 

The boys, Kawalsky and Ferreti were there at his side, transferred from where-ever it was that they had been sent while the gate was down.  And just like before they exchanged pubescent banter with the pretty Captain to try and ruffle her perfectly manicured feathers.  Jack watched this time, with just a smile.  He had forgotten how hard she had been that day, wearing a thick shell of armor to protect herself from their judgments, not willing to take no for an answer.  He had saved her the later embarrassment she would feel and spared her from resorting to the infamous quote that he had never let her live down.  He accepted her addition to the team amicably, secretly loving the look of shock and achievement that had overcome her icy demeanor, warming her checks and putting a sparkle of excitement in those big baby blues of hers.  He wouldn’t have it any other way.  They would get the old team back together, piece by piece, player by player—whether they realized it or not.

Once the meeting was over and O’Niell had nailed down the specifics for his team and the SGC’s required mission parameters, Jack had gone to the locker room to shed his blue’s and gear up.  Opening the locker was a dejavue moment that sent his vision nearly spinning.  It had been too long.  He brought a hand to his temple as he shook of the dizzying feeling, turning his head slightly to the right to imagine where Daniel use to be. 

His locker was a few over.  It was still there just with a different name above it.  Jack’s teeth raked over his bottom lip, as he imagined the scientist standing there, slightly turned away from him, pulling on his BDU’s as he hid that nervous smile he always got when he was embarrassed, knowing that he was being watched.  The older man had always enjoyed seeing the toned muscles of his lover’s body flex as he quickly suited up, pulling the green fatigues up and belting them, slipping on the black cotton tee that was dark and loose enough to leave everything beneath it up to the Colonel’s imagination.  The most striking though was those eyes, shaded by the round rim of his dorky glasses and thick brows above, rimmed by dark lashes and long chestnut hair that framed his face.  Jack use to be able to get lost in those eyes when they were fierce, when they were glassy and tired, deep with desire, or wet with tears.  Daniel’s were honest—an open book, whether the man had wanted to be read or not.

If Jack had actually stared at the other man for that long though, he would be getting the teacher’s glare from stern blue’s over top of the big round specs, cautioning him to keep his lust in check.  The base was off-limits, always had been.  The ache from below his belt warned him that Daniel would have been right—he was letting his emotions run away again and the man wasn’t even here yet. 

The Colonel began to dress himself in the dessert BDU’s, pulling on the sand colored camouflage pants and securing the belt.  The pants were looser than the uniform blue’s and although he doubted he would be able to remedy the bulge within anytime soon he was happy to have the extra room.  It would be easier around the rest of the team too—he didn’t need Carter and the boys getting the wrong idea.  That would just be awkward.  He finished with a utility vest and a cap, pulling the brim down low—he wanted to hide the excess of grey that had come in thick after the time shift.  Then he used his hands to curve the bill to his liking and grabbed a pair of shades.  They would need all the sun protection they could get where they were going.  And then he closed the locker and headed for the gate room.

Kawalsky and Ferreti were chattering to one another like excited children, as the General gave them permission to leave.  Jack gave the order to move out and the two soldiers strolled up the ramp towards the event horizon like they were about to jump on a roller coaster, laughing and elbowing one another.  They exchanged a look of anticipation before stepping through the watery surface at more or less the same time.  Carter was standing at the bottom of the ramp, still looking starry-eyed with wonder and a little hesitant.  Resting his forearm across the top of the P90 he had slung over his shoulder the Colonel joined her.  “Captain?” he prodded softly.

“Oh,” she peeped, looking a little sheepish.  Her face split into a wide grin as she tried to recover with grace, reassuring him, “Don’t worry, sir, I won’t let you down.”

That made Jack shake his head.  Wow.  She really did think that they were all against her.  He had forgotten a lot of this.  Or maybe it had all just been replaced by the dynamics that had grown to solidify the trust and friendship they had come to share as a team.  He remembered her as being far more level headed with her confidence.  This Captain was still young and out to prove herself in the military as a capable female soldier.  He really felt old.

The Colonel sighed and walked past her and her large awe-sparkled eyes, spurring, “Good, I was going to say ‘ladies first’.”  He couldn’t help but tease her.

She talked more about how magnificent a device the stargate was as they walked the short distance up to the glowing event horizon, but Jack had lost that adoration for the thing years ago—her words rolled off of him like water off a duck.  He was thinking of one thing, and one thing only now… _Daniel._

The young blond was still rambling when they got up to the stargate and Jack sighed again, watching her do her scientific gush over the glories of such an alien technology.  Knowing what the stargate ultimately led his former timeline’s planet to he was shortly becoming annoyed with her.  So he pushed her.  He pushed her through the gate to get it done and over with and then he too stepped through to whatever lay on the other side.


	7. Chapter 7

Daniel was beginning to wonder about Skaara’s choice of men for his militia.  The boy that Skaara claimed to trust as one of his best and fastest men, was currently stretched out on the hard cold floor of the darkened cave with a forearm over his eyes, loudly snoring.  The sound was grating on the scientists already frayed nerves.

After sending the box through they had prepared to wait for its return.  It was proving to be more difficult than the scholar had at first anticipated.  He remembered the last time he had waited for Jack’s response.  Then he had not been sure what was to come, he had been too blinded by the year of peace that the people of Abydos had enjoyed to realize that the stargate could hold far darker secrets.  He had not anticipated the danger that the stargate could bring.  Then he wasn’t sure what Jack had wanted.  Now he knew that there was trouble on Earth’s side of things and that fear was weighing down on him, growing heavier with each passing minute that he sat in the dark waiting for the ring to spin to life.

Daniel had tried to pass the time by starting a summary of events over the last six years, wanting to have it in hopes of comparing it with what Earth had experienced, in contrast to what had occurred in their previous timeline.  He hoped to find some kind of a pattern, something that might lead to revealing an idea of what to anticipate this time in order to take advantage of their knowledge and prevent future misfortunes.  The timeline had already changed considerably, which he had thought would spare them the attack from Apophis on Earth and subsequently Abydos.  But that had already proved to be false.  How false he was, was still just an assumption.  He would know better once Jack came through, but it worried him that he had been wrong.  If it had been Apophis on Earth, just like before, then why had the events taken place five years out of place?  Why had it happened again at all?  Could they really expect everything that happened before to happen again?  Could they think they could prevent anything?

The scholar ran his hands up and down over his face, trying to cleanse his mind of the disconcerting thoughts.  He was getting distracted from the task he had set for himself as a distraction.  He exhaled a frustrated sigh and raked his length of hair back from his eyes.  His elbows rested on the top of the work bench, his hands holding his hair back against his skull as his forehead came to rest on his forearms.  His head throbbed.  His nerves were shot.  He felt old, haggard, and annoyed with his manhood.  Each thought of Jack sent a rush of blood pumping southward.  He never had believed that a man could lose his wits to an erection but here, he was, unable to concentrate on a simple list for doom-sayer thoughts of Earth’s end days for erotic thoughts of the silver-haired Colonel. _Oh…Jack._ The man’s memory had been causing him a lot of grief these last months.

The scientist remembered his dream the night before and the foray he had committed on the roof top with those images and his own hand.  He sighed again.  It was embarrassing.  He felt his cheeks flushing as another rush of blood surged to his nether-region, provoking his irritation.  Their relationship before had been complicated.  He had been complicated.  Jack was overly simple—direct, rather, with his intentions.  It had all come as a surprise—a drunken kiss on the floor of Daniel’s living room, amongst his national geographic magazine that had clattered to the floor with the tipped beer bottle, their pages wet with brown foam, as Discovery Channel played a NOVA documentary, ‘The Mating Rituals of the Red Assed Baboon’, in the background.  The scientist hadn’t seen Jack O’Niell coming but there was something about the way he kissed him that made Daniel hard.  The memory still had the same effect now and the archeologist begrudgingly shifted on the stool, pulling at the belt of his BDU’s to make room for the problem.

The memory of their passionate love-making was cropping up these days in all sorts of weird places.  Crowded pushing in the busy market, during droning political meetings with Kasuf and the elders, and especially in his quiet moments when he was alone.  Jack seemed to be on his mind a lot.  And his response to these thoughts was proposing unique challenges that he was not adept at handling.  Worst of all was when he was with Sha’uir. 

Daniel was a blessed husband.  His wife was ‘smokin’ hot’, as Ferreti might have put it, with long luxurious tendrils of dark curls, deep umber eyes framed with thick dark lashes, with a bust to waist ration that even Barbie would envy.  She was an obedient and loyal wife, a tender giving lover, and a firm caring mother.  He had married her by accident although he had come to cherish her deeply.  But that life had changed—it was different now living it again, as though he had been granted a second chance to have what he had always wanted.  Her.  A family.  A life together.

Then why did his memories of Jack’s firm body pushing into him, gripping his hips and rocking against him seem to over shadow all that?  Why was it when Sha’uir was on top of him, writhing with the pleasure of their love-making did his orgasm die with his own desire to caress the sleek abs of one Colonel instead of cupping the large perfect breasts of his wife?  Daniel couldn’t help but smile when he thought that Jack O’Niell would be quite pleased with himself if he knew that even being worlds apart he was still a damn good cock-block.  Daniel could see the wry grin that would curl the other man’s mouth and the twinkle that would sparkle in his sable colored mischievous eyes.  His cock throbbed again and the scholar sighed, his hands dropping his head to let it bang softly against the work bench.  This was getting him nowhere.

The linguist in him took over, trying to stop this in its tracks, and refocus his brain.  He began to mentally recite the numbers one through ten in each language the man boasted to know, alphabetically.  He lifted his head, bringing a hand to his chin to prop his head up, as he stared down the length of his nose at the rough journal before him that he had bound from some lizard skin and papyrus.  His fingers of his free hand drummed on the table top, as he recited his numbers and gazed over the short point-form history of Abydos that he had managed to surmise on the page.  It was rather pathetic.  It was only half done and he had jotted all of five points. 

Daniel nearly shit himself when someone tapped his right shoulder.  He whipped around to the grinning face of his brother in law, quite thrilled with himself for having scared the piss out of the scientist.  Daniel scoffed and slapped the boys shoulder.  Skaara pushed him back and the two laughed, as the younger man joined him on a stool at the work bench.  The boy had known that it would take time to get a reply back from Earth and had taken it upon himself to secure their perimeter.  The last thing they needed was someone else waltzing in on their little parade unannounced.  He had taken some of the food with him, some stinky cheese, salted lizard meat, and a crust of bread, and his P90 that he had brought down from above his bed.  There wasn’t much left for bullets, maybe a clip or two if the kid was sparring, but he wore it with pride.  Daniel knew that he wanted to prove himself to Jack—to the Colonel.  He was a man now, whether the scientist liked it or not.  

“Anything out there?” the archeologist inquired, swinging into a general conversation that might develop into something more to pass the time.  They were both beginning to look impatient.

“Mm-mmm,” the boy grunted, with a shake of his head.  The beads in his braids rattled together with the motion, before Daniel watched him plunge a hand into a small pouch attached to his belt.  Out of the bag he produced a small dead lizard and a few pink Takatil eggs, each as round as a billiard ball.  He tossed one to Daniel and they both chuckled as the scientist nearly fumbled the catch.  They reached forward and, as was the Abydonian juvenile custom, cracked the egg lightly on each other’s brow, quickly bringing it back to their open mouths to drain the slightly sweet pale blue liquid out of the shell.  They discarded the shells and wiped their lips on the back of their hands.  Daniel felt oddly comforted by the childish ritual.  The boy beside him really did feel like a little brother now and then, despite the age-gap between them, and that gave him that unfamiliar sense of family that always seemed to be ghosting in and out of his life, controlled by the whims of his circumstances.  Skaara must have seen something in his face, as his hand darted out to playfully muss the older man’s brown hair.  Daniel shooed the pest away, but thanked the boy for the treat.

“Takatil like the cave-dark.  Nests are easy to find.” The youth explained, with a dispelling shrug of his ever broadening shoulders.  He laid the lizard out on the work bench.  The dead thing was only about a foot long, with a thin length of snout and a small bumped ridge that stretched down the length of its torso and whip-like tail.  It wouldn’t make much of a meal but it was better than cheese and bread for supper.  Daniel had nibbled at their supplies about an hour ago but the cheese had never been one of his favorites and the bread was old.  Sha’uir would be baking with some of the other women in their corner of Nagada today, hopefully trying to tame Cindel’s wildness with lessons from the wise elderly mothers.

“How did Cindel know?” Skaara asked abruptly.

Daniel’s blue eyes darted to the youth across from him, seeing curiosity and shame mingling on his features.  His hands were fidgety, his fingers cleaning dirt from under his nails.  His head was turned down slightly, his vision cast to the floor of the cave.  His teeth dug into his bottom lip.  Of course he felt guilty.  Cindel was the only real girl in Skaara’s life—the boy had yet to even acknowledge the fact that it was past time he get married, even though his father was bringing eligible girls by the house every other day.  Daniel knew that the man liked girls, just not the responsibilities of being a husband or worse, a father himself.  He in turn doted on his little fiery niece, who had more energy than anyone knew what to do with and a mind for trouble that no one could explain.  She followed her uncle everywhere she could and apparently even some places she shouldn’t.

Daniel shrugged his shoulders, not wanting to belittle the young man any more than he probably already felt concerning the girl.  “She’s naturally curious, Skaara, I don’t blame you.  Her own mother can’t keep sight of her.” He assured his brother in law.  Dark eyes darted up to meet blue.  Daniel shook his head and explained, “I’m not sure how she figured it out, but I know that she has seen the stargate.  She was here when the Kleenex box came through.”

“That’s impossible.” Skaara said, with more disbelief in his voice than conviction. “That child is a kalach.  She treds softer than a faylan.”

“She learned from the best.” Daniel reminded his brother in law.  The boy sent him a thin smile, unamused with his point.  He was quiet a moment longer and the scientist could sense some hesitation on the others part.  Then he swallowed and looked up at Daniel with hard set eyes, asking in a tone that was almost a whisper, “You said before, ‘snake in my head’, Dan’yel.  What did you mean?”

It was the scientist’s turn to swallow.  The question took him by surprise.  He had forgot what he had said in the heat of his rage.  He wished the boy had too for he was uncertain of what to give as an answer.  He didn’t want to scare his brother or come off as sounding crazy—although the boy had accepted that he had come through a stone ring, the ring of the god, to save them from slavery…

“Well,” Daniel sighed, drawing out the words as he collected his thoughts.  He gave the boy a wan smile and stated only what he knew he could afford, “before Ra took over that boy’s body, long ago, it looked like a snake.  There may be more of them and my biggest fear is to see you or your sister taken as hosts.”

The boy pursed his lips and slowly nodded his head, absorbing what Daniel had offered him.  The scientist wasn’t entirely sure that the boy had believed him, but Skaara did not outright rebuke him.  Those black eyes were dark and calculating.  They scanned him with scrutiny, making the man feel even guiltier for withholding the whole truth.  Then, like the crack of a whip, the boy straightened, his gaze fixing on a point somewhere in the darkness of the cave over Daniel’s shoulder, towards the entrance.  The man froze, his eyes trained on his brother in law, who slowly came to his feet as his hand slipped down to pull the blade from the sheath at his hip. 

Skaara brought a finger to his lips, motioning for silence and stillness from his comrade, before he began to slowly stalk silently towards what had caught his attention.  Daniel felt a pins and needles sensation at the back of his neck, the hairs at the base of his scalp rising with his alarm.  His thoughts raced out of his control and all he could see was the large golden head of the serpent Apophis.  He lurched to his feet like a corpse suddenly coming to life, leaping forward to place himself before the boy.  Skaara wanted to balk and tried to push the scholar out of his way but Daniel planted his feet and remained firm.  He wanted himself between the boy and whatever it was that lurked at the cave entrance. 

The scientist reached around his back and pulled the small black berretta M9 that was wedged into his belt.  He brought the gun forward and began to edge his way slowly towards the entrance.  Not having seen or heard what had alerted the youth, he suddenly realized the folly of his impetuous maneuver.  Although his intention was bravery he now was an open target.  Blind.  “Where?” he hissed at his brother in law.  From over his shoulder Skaara reached a hand, silently pointing an index finger towards a crevice in the rock wall, where an out cropping stalagmite had been broken off a couple feet from the ground.  The little bit of natural light that filtered in from the distant cave opening was enough to cast a shadow that reached just an inch or two beyond the rising mineral deposit.

With his enemy now in sight, his hands shifted on the hilt of the hand gun, and he bit his lip to steady his aim.  The gun felt less familiar in his grip than he would have liked.  Slowly he edged forward, his blood pounding in his temples, quickened by the adrenalin that was flooding his system.  Step by step he closed in on the rock formation, the shadow flickering but not moving.  There was no other motion, no other sound. He gave the stalagmite a wide berth, Skaara keeping close behind him, blade drawn and ready.  Together they leapt out to confront the intruder, only to be shocked at the sight on a small form plastered into the shadows of the shallow crevice that cut into the rock of the wall, shivering with fright.

“Govno, ta ma de, sheisse!” Daniel swore, as he lowered the weapon.  A hand came to his throbbing head as the other holstered the weapon in the belt at his back.  At first glance it could have been any small child, but upon better inspection and instinct the scholar had seen the truth—the black ringlets pulled into the high pony-tail at the crown of her head and those stark blue eyes staring at him in mortification.  “Cindel Sam Jackson!  Where in the hell did you come from?”

His daughter didn’t move nor did she speak.  She stood there, her tiny frame pushed back into the rock as though she meant to melt into it.  She was still.  More still than Daniel had ever known her to be capable of.  He brought his hand down, biting his lip, still angry but now more confused.  Had he been too harsh?  She had seen the gun pointed at her, had he scared her?  His eyes darted up and down her form, taking in the bare feet, dirty from the long walk, the simple home spun dress that was synched at her waist with a wide sash of finer fabric in a faded coral with its fine embroidery, her tiny rose bud mouth, lips quivering, and her wide eyes full of fear.  “Cindel…?” he tried to coax her, “Honey…I—Daddy didn’t—?”

“Na’nai.” Skaara’s sharp hiss froze Daniel.  The boys hand was firm on his elbow, restraining him from reaching out to the girl that was only a couple of feet away from the two of them.  “Ranor, Dan’yel.”

The scientist’s eyes shot down to his daughter’s feet.  There it was. The small pebble-sized black head coming up and around the length of his daughter’s shin, its dark forked tongue flicking in and out of its mouth against her goose bumped skin.  His throat constricted, with the sight of the deadly snake curling its way around her leg, his breath hitching.  One bite.  That was all it would take.  One bite and the snake’s neurotoxic venom would cut off his baby’s air supply, killing her in a matter of minutes.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daniel swears at his daughter in russian, chinese, and german (I don't speak these languages but I found the translations on the internet, so if they are wrong or offensive in the matter with which they were used *shrugs* blame the internet???) he basically says, fuck and shit.


	8. Chapter 8

Daniel had seen ranor snakes before, once or twice.  They were small snakes, with a black oblong head and a short body that consisted of alternating neon green and black bands of scales, found in dark wet environments, much like the abandoned mines of Ra provided.  They were rarely seen in the city, except skinned.  They were very dangerous and all children were warned to steer clear of them.  The neurotoxicity of their venom could kill a man in an hour.  It was not a painful death but a slow excruciating suffocation.  Bites were fairly rare.  The little snakes had small fangs and their bite was known to be incapable of penetrating thick leather.  Yet, the bare legs of his daughter was another story.

Daniel felt a led weight fall into the pit of his stomach.  He froze.  His mind went blank.  He stared at his quivering child and felt his own body begin to shake in response.  She was at the snake’s mercy and he was helpless to stop it.  The snake was attracted to the warmth of her torso and twisted up her leg at its leisure.  If they touched her or the snake, it may bite.  It wouldn’t take much venom to kill a five year old child.

Skaara had pointed the animal out and then had silently padded away, moving with haste but without a sound, so as not to provoke it.  Daniel had no idea where the boy had gone but it wasn’t long before he had returned, coming up behind the scientist very slowly.  Skaara’s body pressed close to his back and then he felt a hand grip his elbow, gently drawing his arm back.  From the boys fingers he deposited a round object into Daniel’s hand.  When he drew his hand back he was clutching the soft pink takatil egg.  Revelation dawned.  Food. 

“Still, still, Cindel.” Skaara coached his niece in a whisper, bringing his finger to his mouth in shushing motion, “Don’t move.”

The girl’s eyes darted to her uncle’s face and he could see the confirmation mask the fear.  She clenched her eyes closed then and Daniel slowly crouched towards the rock floor.  He leaned forward toward her on his haunches as far as he dared.  Then he tapped the egg shell on the ground, splitting it open.  He placed the two halves on the ground a foot from his daughter’s feet.  Then he leaned back and pulled the gun back out, gripping the barrel in his fist. 

The black head of the snake had drifted up under the hem of the dress, but the line of the body constricted against the shin of his daughter’s leg, stopping its upwards motion.  It hesitated and then finally began to slowly recede, the scales moving to work the animal’s way back down to the ground.  Inch by inch it descended until the head was visible, turning the whole snake downwards.  The forked tongue was busy flicking, testing the air.  It wanted the egg more.  When it had dropped to the ground and was free of the girl’s leg and feet Daniel hammered its head with the butt of the gun, beating the snake til its skull was a flattened grease spot on the rock floor.

“Daddy!” the girl cried, big tears slipping down over her cheeks, as he reached out and plucked her up into his arms.  He whispered her name as he was comforted by the warmth and weight of her tiny body against his own.  Her arms were like a vice around his neck and he could feel tears against the nape of his neck as he carried her away from the snake and back into the depth of the cavern.  He was barely aware of Skaara on his heels, his brother in law ruffling the girls curls—he too wanting to touch her to know she was still alive and well.  It had been too close.

Daniel brought his daughter in his arms back over to the work bench and sat down on the stool, placing the girl so she straddled his lap comfortably.  He held her close to him for a long time, rocking her tiny frame in his arms like she were still a tiny infant, stroking her dark curls back from how they tumbled down about the sides of her small head.  She calmed quickly, her breathing slowing to normal, her heart beat decreasing, and her sobs stopping.  The father wished he was calmed as quickly.  His heart was still pacing and he felt slightly nauseous after the whole ordeal.  He held her until her little energetic form would withstand it no longer and then when he finally let her slip from his arms she bounded out like a trapped animal, smiling and giggling like nothing untoward had passed—like she hadn’t just cheated death.

The scientist smiled, his reaction in comparison to that of hers making him feel old.  He felt like he had just woke up from a zat-blast, with the headache and knotting belly to prove it.  She would be the death of him, her and her need to rebel against his wishes.  He just knew it.  All three and half feet of her skittered away to view the giant looming ring, shouting exclamations of admiration that made it hard not to smile.  Her blue eyes were just as wide with wonder as they had been minutes before from fear and as she shouted, she danced and twirled before the stargate, laughing and giggling with delight.  Seeing her enjoyment made it hard for the scientist to remember that she had disobeyed him.

“No touch, Cindel!” Skaara bellowed, just in time to avert the girl’s tiny hands from rubbing what she could reach of the naquada ring.  She wrapped her arms behind her back, tangling her fingers together in compliance, nodding her head to convey her agreement.  

The scholar sighed, exhaustedly, and looked up at his approaching brother in law.  He sheathed his knife at his hip, as Daniel noticed the dead snake in his grip, dangling lifelessly, a clean cut stump where the head use to be.  Of course, Skaara would intend to eat the little bastard along with the lizard he had caught earlier.  His stomach churned at the thought and he elicited a creaking groan, wrapping a hand protectively around his midsection.  The boy noticed but refrained from commenting, turning to make a quick glance back at the frolicking youngster as he laid the snake on the work bench beside the dead lizard.  His gaze lingered on the child, skipping and playing around the stargate as though it were a shiny new playground.  He plunked his rear down on the other stool once more, turning to face Daniel.

“All this, Granin still sleeps!” Skaara complained, theatrically throwing his arms up into the air and letting them fall back down to slap his thighs. 

Daniel nodded in acknowledgment, also finding it curious that the youth was still snoring comfortably asleep on the floor of the cave.  The teen reminded him that he still needed to deal with his daughter’s disobedience.  He would send her home to her mother.  “You should wake him.” Daniel ordered suddenly, his eyes darting from the young man to the teen behind him, “I will send him back to Nagada with a mastadge and Cindel.”

“Hmph,” Skaara grunted, giving the scholar a wry lop-sided grin.  He pointed at his brother in law and dryly asked the obvious, “not going to let her see the chaapa’ai?”

“Absolutely not.” Daniel responded coldly, pointing back at the ignorant child declaring, “That is exactly what she wants.  I have no intention of rewarding her disobedience.  She can go back to Nagada and give me the time that I need to think of a more suitable punishment to lay down once I return.”

Skaara nodded his head and then mockingly folded his arm across his torso and stepped back into a deep bow.  The braids of his dark hair fell over his shoulder as his head dipped downwards only making Daniel want to cuff the youth for his petulance.  “As you wish,” the young man patronized, before standing up with a deep chuckle and wide grin plastered on his face.  He moved quickly to wake his soldier, as Daniel stalked over to where his daughter was dancing in front of the large stone ring. 

As he approached she stopped her twirling, the light weight cream colored fabric settling about her knees, as she turned those large blue eyes on him, full of wonder and excitement.  Her rosebud mouth was drawn into a wide smile and she reached her little hands up above her head, as if to display the stargate to him for the first time.  “Isn’t it beautiful, daddy!” she exclaimed in a rush of words, “It is even prettier when the lights glow red and you can see the blue water.”

“Yes, Cindel, I know.” He replied, leaning forward to pluck her up off of the ground.  He settled her at his hip, one arm supporting her small frame in his arms.  He wanted to say more, but the child’s thrilled chatter cut him off.

“You came through the ring, didn’t you daddy?  I want to go through the ring!  I wanna ride through the stars.  Let’s take mama and go—!”

Daniel snatched his daughter’s wrist, forcefully grabbing her attention.  She turned her wide blue eyes on him, a hurt and confused pinch to her cherub features, as she pulled slightly away from him in his arms.  He held her arm firmly, his thick brows lowering over his eyes, as he stared into his daughter’s concerned face.  Unrelentingly he explained to the small girl, “You are going home, Cindel.”

The child’s delight melted in an instant to reveal shock and disappointment.  Her large eyes welled with tears as if on cue and she began to protest, “But daddy I—!”

“I said, ‘no’, Cindel.” Daniel reinforced austerely.  The girl’s face contorted with the intensity of her frustration and she threw her head back and wailed pitifully, large tears beginning to roll down her reddened cheeks.  Her movement was so violent and sudden that the scientist’s stance faltered with the thrust.  Having a hold of her wrist he was able to hold her from throwing her entire body backwards out of his arms—why children never thought of hurting themselves when they threw these temper tantrums always irritated him.  His teeth grit together as he swallowed his instinct to ream the child out verbally, although the crease between his brows was evidence of his strain. 

With his daughter completely lost within her own hysterical wailing storm, Daniel adjusted her weight and threw the child over his shoulder.  Holding her around the knees with one arm he carried her to the entrance of the cave, her balled fists beating against his back.  There was no dealing with her once the tantrum had come on and so he silently went about taking the child from the tunnel and the rest of the way to the ground level, where the mastadges were tied.  Skaara and Granin were not far behind him. 

Once beside one of the large domesticated beasts the girl’s screaming had quieted and the sobs that had wracked her tiny frame had slowed.  Daniel sighed in frustration and pulled on her knees, hauling the child back over his shoulder and into his arms.  He looked unyielding into her small round face, red from her tears and anger.  Her thin dark brows were harshly knit over the stark blue of her eyes, wet from crying, as she crossed her arms over her chest.  “Are you quite finished?” he asked her, in a firm even tone.

She shook her head ‘no’ vehemently, her bottom lip pouted and her eyes scrunching closed.

“You directly disobeyed both your mama and I, Cindel,” he began to lecture.

“No, I didn’t, daddy!  I didn’t, honest!” she balked, her eyes flashing wide with pleading.

The man drew a finger to his closed lips, asking her to quiet.  She reluctantly obeyed, even though every cell in his body screamed at him that she wasn’t finished.  When she was still and quiet he tried again.  “You did, Cindel.  You disobeyed me by coming here and you disobeyed your mama by sneaking away—.”

“But I didn’t, daddy, mama said that I should come.” She insisted, stunning her father into silence.  She took full advantage of his surprise to blithely continue, “She made me tell her what had happened and then she got mad and told me to come.”

“Don’t tell lies, Cindel Jackson!” Daniel scolded her, angered by her contemptible rebelliousness.  He dropped her to the ground, her feet hit the rocky floor of the open mine roughly.

“I’m not, daddy…” she said through a broken sob, as the tears began to overwhelm her lashes once more, tumbling down her red cheeks once more.  She swiped at them, as her chest hiccupped with sobs.  “She told me to, honest-honest.”

“Cindel, stop.” He warned her, even though what she had said was playing through his mind.  He wondered if Sha’uir really had sent her.  It would be the perfect excuse to defy him without blame.  Cindel was always running away and getting into trouble.  Had she really wanted to know what he was up to that badly that she would purposely send their daughter to spy for her?  He felt his anger flare but managed to quell it with a stiff upper lip.  It didn’t matter now.  He needed to get the girl back to safety.  He would deal with this development when he got home.  He looked down at his daughter and emphasized, “You are going back home and I want you to promise me, Cindel, that you will stay there this time, in your room.  I forbid you to leave until I return, no matter what your mama says or anyone else.  Do you understand me?”

The little girl’s mouth was a thin line, lost somewhere between contempt and tears, but she agreed, nodding. 

Granin was there then, climbing nimbly into the saddle of the tall hairy beast which rocked its massive head up and down, grunting delightedly at the prospect of travel.  Skaara undid the reins from the spike in the rock face that they had used as a hitching post.  When the teen was situated comfortably Daniel grabbed his daughter about the waist and hoisted her up to the boy.  His strong arms took her and settled her in front of him in the leather saddle before the pummel.  She looked back down at her father, silent and still pouting.  Her eyes were darkened with brooding. 

“Take her back to Nagada and tell my wife that she is not to leave.  I will return and deal with disciplining her then.” Cindel began to cry again, angrily rubbing her eyes with her rounded fists, as Granin nodded his understanding.  With a strong kick to the mastadges sides the beast began to trot briskly away, trumpeting as Granin pulled on the reins to direct the animal from the rock of the mine-floor out into the sandy dunes that stretched away in all directions.

Daniel watched them go, a sick weight in the pit of his gut.  Skaara was at his side, silent although Daniel knew he was holding back.  The scientist exhaled, his irritation palpable.  “What?”

Skaara chuckled deeply and the scholar caught the boy smirking, as he shook his head.  “You could have stayed her.  She’s seen the chaapa’ai.  Why does it matter?”

“No.  It’s not safe.  It’s not just O’Niell that could come through the chaapa’ai.” Daniel reiterated, turning on the ball of his heel.  He stalked back to the cave with the boy right behind him.  Pensively the scholar waved an arm back towards the boy, ranting, “I want her safe.  I don’t need to be worried about her when the stargate opens.  You don’t understand, you don’t know what can come through, and what they can do to you if they do.  Trust me.”  His pace slowed, as Skaara caught up to him, matching his steps perfectly.  His dark eyes were curious and confused—Daniel knew that he had said too much again.  He cursed aloud and looked away from the boy. 

Skaara didn’t push him further.  The boy had learned when to keep his mouth shut after all.  They walked the rest of the way back to the stargate in silence.  As the archeologist approached the work bench to resettle himself back to his distraction of surmising the last six years of Abydonian history he felt the tremor of the ring activating before he heard the grind of its movement.  He stopped, eyes darting to the red glow of the first chevron as it locked in place.  The ring switched directions back and forth until all seven of the chevrons blazed with power.  The stargate surged with a watery blast that sucked back into a swirling vortex before settling into a shimmering pool that illuminated the rock walls with an eerie white light. 

Daniel swallowed.  The hair at the back of his neck was on its ends again as his nerves prickled.  This was it.


	9. Chapter 9

Jack had forgotten how disorientating a trip through the wormhole was.  He was spit out on the other side like a mouthful of chaw.  He had been prepared for the trip, recalling beforehand that Carter had yet to adjust the Earth’s Dialing Computer to smooth out the ride, and still his footing had faltered and he had tumbled out of the event horizon in spinning tangle of limbs.  He landed flat on his stomach, face against cold rocky floor, his vision still dizzying.  He brought a hand to his temple, groaning, as he tried to regain his bearings.

A darkness surrounded them, illuminated by what looked to be the warm-colored glow of firelight—a torch maybe.  He could hear the grumbled complaints of his soldiers, shaking off the bruises and the light dusting of frost that coated each of them from head to toe.  He could hear the pretty Captain’s fast breaths and when he finally managed to get to his feet, he could see her sitting to his right on her bottom, legs crossed in front of her.  One hand was holding her head and the other was around her midsection, as she gave a subdued anti-hurl burp to try and settle her stomach.  He smiled, knowing all too well how easily that kind of a gate-ride could rattle one’s insides.  The Colonel clapped her reassuringly on the back and dryly told her, “It’s a little bumpy but you’ll shake it off.”

Shakily she managed to bob her head up and down, swallowing hard before she answered firmly, “Yes, sir.” 

As the Colonel’s vision began to adjust to the dim lighting, she took his offered hand and he pulled her up.  Ferreti and Kawalsky were on their feet and at the ready, no more chuckling or jibing.  Jack gazed about the cave, his nerves immediately prickling as he realized that they weren’t in the temple.  Why hadn’t he picked that up at the debriefing?  Carter had sent a probe through and she was obviously nonplused by their location.  Then it hit him, like a knife in the gut—where was Daniel?

The man hit him like a freight train and the Colonel nearly toppled over backwards from the force.  Jack hadn’t even seen his face, it was just a body flung against him and strong arms about his neck.  It had taken his men by surprise too—he heard the click of a gun cocking and then uncocking with recognition.  Jack didn’t hesitate to respond and with elation he forgot about everything else, wrapping his arms around the archeologist’s chest, his P90 uncomfortably squished between them.  The other man didn’t say anything and Jack couldn’t bring himself to either.  All he could do was grin like an idiot.  It felt so damn good to have him back—back against him and in his arms, safe, well, and alive.

The Colonel brought a hand to the back of the other man’s neck patting where his hair line came over his collar and then the arms around him loosened, but Jack wasn’t ready to let the archeologist go.  He allowed a space between them but as the other pulled back he grabbed his face between his hands, taking a good long look at that face.  There he was—all of him just the same damn near as he remembered.  Those thick brows over those bright blue eyes, glassy with a hint of tears that he refused to shed, complimented by the length of his nose, the height of his cheeks, and the fullness of his supple mouth over his strong chin with a ghosting of rough stubble.  His mouth was intoxicating, his lips pulled into a rapt smile revealing perfectly straight white teeth, and suddenly all Jack wanted to do was smother the man in kisses—rim his tongue around that full bottom lip and part his teeth to delve into his mouth and taste him, all of him. 

There was a rough awkward cough—Kawalasky or Ferreti?—and the archeologist jerked out of his arms, taking a generous step back from the Colonel.  His hands fell to his sides and then were quickly behind his back, his cheeks reddened with a mingling of desire now over shadowed by his embarrassment.  Jack clicked his jaw shut and ground his teeth—that had been too close, he had lost his self-control, and still he felt angered that they had been interrupted, that they had been unable to indulge in this reunion like the two of them wanted to—deserved to. 

Daniel apologized and tried to recover tactfully by welcoming the team, when Kawalsky ignorantly teased, “Dr. Jackson, I’d hug ya but I think the Colonel’s given ya a big enough squeeze for all of us.  It’s good to see ya.”  Jack wanted to smack the sarcastic smirk right off of the soldier—perhaps he would later—when Daniel visibly resisted embracing the pretty young Captain.  His blue eyes told the Colonel that he was surprised to see her again—had the archeologist forgot that he meet her again too, as Jack had?  The brunette awkwardly shook the Captain’s hand instead, as they shared introductions, and then the Colonel saw Skaara.

The boy was no longer a boy.  The dark haired lanky youth had filled out with what looked like pure muscle, not brick-head bulky in his size but lithe like, with broad shoulders that tapered, with a healthy pack of abs, to a thin waist atop runner’s legs.  He held his head high, chin jutting with pride, his dark eyes assessing him.  Then his boots clicked together and his back went rigidly straight, as he drew a hand to his brow and saluted.  Jack smiled and returned the gesture, before closing the few steps between them and giving the youth a healthy squeeze and a clap on the back.  It was so good to see him again—to see him like this, a man now.

When they parted, he ruffled the kids head, messing the lengthy mane making the beaded braids rattle.  Skaara chuckled a protest and swatted his hand away.  The Colonel introduced the Captain to the young man and then the group sat to discuss their mission parameters at a table off to the side of the gate, in the light of the two burning torches.  Daniel and Carter did most of the talking, moving from the incident on Earth to a short summary of Abydos’s last six years, through to what their next move might look like.  Jack enjoyed staying out of it although he found it hard to concentrate.  He couldn’t keep his eyes off of the archeologist. 

It was an amazing feeling to see the man again—it had been too long—and Jack had tried in vain to cover-up the loss of his relationship after the time shift, never once allowing himself to believe that this moment would be possible.  Yet here he was.  There was Daniel, right in front of him.  Real.  His heart fluttered and he coughed to try and dislodge the feeling.

Sable eyes studied the other man.  Never left the other man.  He noticed that Daniel had let the short crop, he had adopted after that cow Hathor had chopped his hair, grow out.  It was much the same as it had been when he had first retrieved the scientist from Abydos—before.  It was a little longer now, brushing well past the tip of his nose in the front and curling out about the nape of his neck, where it hit his shoulders, but it was the same warm brunette that he remembered, bleached out slightly by the sun but still straight and smooth.  He wore a shadow of bristles that Jack had seen before on muggy mornings in Minnisota, on long weekend trips to the cabin to go ‘fishing’.  His frame was the same, still long and lean with muscle, balanced by the thin well-manicured digits of his hands that always moved as he talked, gesturing and explaining as much as his words did.  Then there were his eyes.  The cobalt depths of his bright iris’ wore a different glint than before, as though it were possible for them to deepen—how? He wasn’t sure.  It just was. 

It made the Colonel wonder what was there that had not been before—was it the last six years that they had spent apart?  Was it possible that Daniel wore the age of his body in the deepening shades of his eyes?  It was impossible to think that they were both the same people they had parted as, even if he wanted it with all of his being.  Six years was not just a drop in the bucket, although it felt like that now that he saw the man again.  They had changed and with that acknowledgment he was determined to find out how, to know each and everything that Daniel had done, had learned, had experienced in that time. 

His groin twitched and Jack sighed, with annoyance and exhaustion as he shifted his position, leaning back from the table.  He took the time to stretch.  His body was unaccustomed to being spat from the stargate and now his muscles were complaining about the rough ride.  He left the table to walk it off—his feet were tired of standing.  There were only three stools and of course Daniel and Carter needed one each.  Kawlasky and Ferreti had fought for the other one, Lou losing with a bad choice of rock against paper. 

The Colonel stretched his arms above his head, one hand grabbing an elbow and applying just enough pressure for the muscle to satisfyingly lengthen.  He worked the other arm in the same manner and then arched his back, pinching his shoulder blades together, before rolling his shoulders.  Then he noticed that he wasn’t alone.  Skaara was at his side, joining him away from the table.  The two of them walked idly in the direction of the cave entrance.  Perhaps some fresh air would be good now.  Clear his head of the erotic thoughts of Daniel that kept the erection painfully rigid in his pants.

Stepping out into the sunlight of midday heated him through instantly.  The air was cooler inside the cave but was muggy with damp.  The air out in the sunlight was hot and dry.  He shed his thick military jacket, tossing it down at the cave entrance along with the utility vest.  The sun was glaringly bright, blinding his vision until he slid the round shades up his nose and into place.  The grey-green polarized lenses filtered the glare of the light and he could see the sheer cliff face of the open mines of Ra, now abandoned and filling in with sand. 

He heard a familiar low trumpet, which sounded slightly gargled.  Drawing his attention to his right he saw the bulking form a massive mastadge, its long shaggy hair slowly swaying in the slight breeze and its hulking head lowered, wide nostrils flaring to sniff the rocky ground.  There was a bucket filled with water around its long legs and it dipped the large lips of its bare snout into it, the pink tongue lapping slowly.  Boy, he hadn’t missed them.  The potent musk of the animal wafted to his nostrils on the breeze and Jack winced. 

“So,” he said, turning to the young man at his side, as he idly kicked a pebble across the floor of the mine, its skittering echoing off the rock wall face that loomed behind them, jutting upright into the blue sky.  “Daniel says you dug up the stargate.  You and your men brought it here and managed to set it up.  That’s quite the achievement.”

Skaara nodded, accepting the compliment with pride.  Jack could see the P90 slung over his shoulder, resting against the small of the young man’s back and he wondered if the kid still had ammunition for the thing after six years.  Skaara pointed back towards the east into the sea of dunes, shortly explaining how his militia had accomplished the task.  Jack listened with only half an interest.  His mind wondered in and out of the kid’s words, lost in prior memories of Klorel that made the Colonel feel sick to his stomach.  He tried to shake off the haunting recollection, knowing that this time could be different. 

The heat of the sun didn’t help.  His mouth was dry all of a sudden and he tried to quench his thirst with a drink from his canteen, when Skaara finished talking.  Jack felt awkward and at a loss—where had the kid left off?  Was he expected to respond because he had no idea what to say or even what they boy had been discussing when his words had dropped off.  Jack swallowed another draught before putting the canteen back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.  Skaara’s dark eyes were intense and seemed somewhat distracted himself. 

“That so?” Jack said lamely, meaning it as statement and not a question.

The boy nodded his head, his thin lips a grim line across the bottom of his youthful face.  Jack could see that the boy wore no stubble and mentally tried to calculate his age.  Possibly 20?  No, 23?  Hell, he had no idea.  He was still a kid, as far as he was concerned, he didn’t want to accept that he was a man—a soldier.

“Dan’yel, missed you.” His low voice announced, his English slightly choppy but understandable. 

Jack was thrown by the comment, unsure exactly what to respond.  His eyes crinkled behind the sunglasses as he fought the slight flush he felt to his cheeks—or was it just the heat of the sun?  He placed his hands on his hips, turning slightly from the boy so he didn’t have to look at his face and instead pretended to survey the mine.  “Yeah, well, it’s been a long time.” He said, just for the sake of saying something. 

“He wanted the chaapa’ai left in sand.  I…” Jack could hear the boy swallow before he finished admitting firmly, “I couldn’t.”

“Well, I’m glad you dug it up, even if it is mostly for selfish reasons, Skaara.” He explained, turning back to reassure the youth, “One of my people has gone missing, stolen through that thing by another snake-head like Ra.  I’m hoping that Dr. Jackson will be able to help us find her.”

The young man nodded apathetically.  Of course if he had been listening at all to the others talking he would have already know that.  Jack seemed to sense that the boy was trying to say something else.  He didn’t want to guess.  He could pretty well assume that he’d be wrong. 

“When you leave, O’Niell,” Skaara stated with a steadfast conviction, as his dark eyes captured the other man’s gaze, “I am going with.”

The Colonel snorted derisively.  “There’s no way that is going to happen.” He stated stiffly, smirking.  The boy’s offense was violent and immediate.  Jack knew how much the kid wanted to go but his decision was tempered by the knowledge that the boy was safest here, with his family, and with the gate reburied.  There was not a chance in hell that he was going to let the kid gate-surf—not well he had a say in the matter. 

“Why not?!” the kid blustered, his hand drawn into a tight white knuckled fist and his face pinched with agitation and chagrin. 

His rage only made the Colonel chuckle, despite knowing that his mirth would only serve to fuel the youth’s outrage.  “I’m sorry, Skaara, but it’s not going to happen.” He reinforced, shrugging his shoulders and trying to fight the grin that split his face in response to the outburst.  He hid his intentions behind convenient excuses, vindicating himself by explaining, “I have orders to follow here and I can’t put you or your people at risk.”

The boy’s dark eyes narrowed with a dark irritation that contorted the jovial expressions that Jack was use to remembering on the boy.  Cursing Skaara crossed his arms over his chest, chiding impudently, “You sound like Dan’yel.  Snake-head, snake-head!  I have trained to fight false-gods!  My life has been to fight this evil!  I am not a boy!  I am ready!”

Jack felt his face flush with his own anger.  Who did this kid think he was?  Where had the jovial soldier-wanna-be gone?  The kid that use to follow him around watching, listening, and learning had been replaced by an imposter that seemed to take himself far too seriously.  Before the Colonel knew it he had a finger pointed at the youth’s chest and he was yelling into his face, “Ready?!  You don’t know the meaning!  You don’t even have a clue!  There ain’t no way I am letting you near a Goa’uld, no matter how you’ve played with these toy guns!  I’m not going to see a snake in your head again!”

Then there was silence.  Jack could hear his breaths coming hard and fast, could see the white of the boys eyes disappear as his almond-shaped eyes narrowed and his jaw set.  The Colonel spun on his heel, angered with the kid’s ignorance and his own inability to hold his tongue.  _Shit!_   He had said too much!  He cursed audibly and stalked away, pissed with himself and the situation.  He would love to take Skaara with him, to share the adventure of exploring the abundance of new worlds that the stargate could open to them, but not knowing what he knew.  Not with the Goa’uld out there.  Not with having seen those fierce dark eyes aglow with the white blaze of the snake’s control.  No.  Not again.  Not ever.

Skaara didn’t pursue him.  The youth let him walk away stiff with his own contempt.  He kicked the ground as he went, sending a broken basket tumbling and an abandoned bucket crashing across the empty floor of the mine.  His eyes drifted up the rock face of the mine’s steep wall.  It was nothing like what it had been when he had first seen it through the lenses of his binocular’s, crawling with the shuffling forms of workers moving mineral down ladders to waiting deposits.  It was empty and lonely, a looming structure void of life and littered with the remnants of the past slave-driven mining.  He cursed it too.  He cursed Ra.  He cursed the Goa’uld.  Then Kawalsky’s call met his ears and he turned back to see the vague form of his team at the mouth of the cave entrance.

They were ready to move out.   


	10. Chapter 10

Jack felt like a complete ass—worse than a leech and most diffidently like a bastard.  A couple of tiring dusty hours later the Colonel had marched his company across the blazing hot sand dunes, the sun descending on their backs, to the great mud walls of the Abydonian city, Nagada.  He had spent the time relatively silent, the argument with Skaara still grinding his gears as Kawalsky and Ferreti praised the young man for the things Jack had tried to kibosh.  Now he smelled of sweat, sand, and mastadge, having no contact with Daniel to prove for it.  His archeologist had been completely overtaken by the sweeping discussions that the pretty blond Captain’s questions elicited and after the fumble he’d made with the bear-hug nearly sensual make-out session with the scientist upon arrival he had thought it better not to interrupt the two.

Now here he was, in the dirty archaic city, in the very house that his archeologist had called home for the last six years of their separation.  And there she was.  A little raven-haired cutie, no more than five, with those damn blazing blue eyes, wide and dauntingly full of curiosity and wonder.  The sight of her hit him like a fucking train wreck.  She was _his_ —there was no doubt about it.  The one thing that Jack could never have given Daniel.  A child.  A beautiful, absolutely adorable, replica of the man he loved so much his heart nearly burst—Daniel had a daughter.

The Colonel forced his jaw shut, the movement of his teeth snapping together making an awful audible click.  He steeled himself, trying to remain firm—to not look like he was about to lose it—as Daniel strode away from him and his group to join his smokin’ hot wife and pretty young girl—to join his family—as introductions were quickly distributed for their benefit.  Jack felt the sting of his nails digging into his palms.

Sha’uir was more beautiful than the last time he could remember seeing her.  Her eyes were a dark smoky umber, rimmed with long curling lashes that Carter no doubt envied, reproachfully glaring at all of them, despite the fake smile that was plastered on her face bellow the perfect curve of her nose.  Jack wondered why she looked so tense until those dark eyes flashed to him—he felt pinned beneath her piercing cold gaze and instantly guilty.  Here he had come all this way, traveled across the galaxy, to see his archeologist again thinking like a fool that they would be reunited and their relationship would make a stellar re-launch to cloud nine, where they’d be happy, in love, and there’d be sex—when in truth _he_ was the ass.  _He_ was the bastard.  _He_ was the _other._ Daniel had everything a man could want right here, all the time.  He had a super model wife, with perky breasts and a plump smile, and a kid worthy of snuggling.  He had a perfect family.  He was an idiot to think that he could just reinsert himself into the man’s life and take center stage. 

The evening progressed with the Colonel managing to keep a low profile.  There was an impromptu feast prepared in their honor, with lizard meat, moonshine, and the whole nine-yards.  Kawalasky and Ferreti enjoyed themselves, stuffing their faces and drinking within their limits, laughing and joking, even stealing some friendly gropes from some of the more flirtatious women.  Carter too seemed to relax and absorb the amiable atmosphere that the Abydonians provided in abundance, sampling the exotic foods, tasting the throat charring moonshine Skaara had broken out, and still thirstily soaking up Daniel’s time.  The two carried on with their discussions as though they had never stopped, even though they ceased frequently to eat or drink or watch some bawdy female sway her limbs in time with a drummer’s rhythmic beat.  Jack kept to himself and kept his mouth shut for the most part—save for the food and drink.  The lizard meat never got old—still tasted like chicken simmered with onions and rosemary—and the moonshine had some kick but settled well in the empty hole that was left behind in his gut after seeing Daniel and his happy little family.

The Colonel would never admit that he was jealous and sulking but visibly tried to hide the tension that he was feeling with the passing time.  The sun had settle long ago, as they sat merrily around a large bon-fire in one of the stone court yards, a fairly modest opening between the sandwiched buildings.  Jack took another swig of the hard-stuff, shaking off the burn that was left as it slipped down his throat and into his gut.  It warmed his belly where it sat, slowly beginning to overtake the frustration and envy that clung to him like a cold sweat.  His hands were kept busy with the food, shoveling dried fruits, fresh vegetables, breads and meats into his mouth, but his eyes he found hard to keep occupied.  His forced his gaze to wander, flitting over the dozens of people crowded into the square, serving and mingling with him and his men.  Anything to keep them off of Daniel. 

Seeing the other man made his dick hard, his palms sweat, and his chest ache.  It pissed him off so he tried to avoid looking at him, even though he knew that those blue’s were sending him longing glancing between conversations with Carter.  His gaze skimming over the man once more, as if he could pretend he wasn’t there or that he was perhaps just a figment of his imagination, the Colonel’s vision did settle on  another set of blue eyes; the little girl’s.  Her small form seemed out of place amongst the drinking and feasting.  It was late and there were no other children amongst them.  Wasn’t she supposed to be in bed?

Daniel didn’t seem to notice that his daughter was there, or at least he did not acknowledge her presence.  Sha’uir was nowhere in sight although the Colonel knew she had to be close by her husband somewhere—she hadn’t strayed far from his side since they had returned.  Jack eyed the five year old.  Now that he watched her she did seem to be sneaking.  Her wide blue eyes kept making cautious glances back towards her father, whose attention was wholly consumed by the blond Captain.  When Daniel turned away from the Captain—and the girl—to grab another morsel from a passing tray of fruits and vegetables the girl sprang into action.  Like a jack rabbit, she had streaked across the circle of people in a flash, her sudden movement evading her father’s attention.  The girl settle herself close to Jack, her hand touching his knee as she dropped onto her bottom rather roughly, the skirt of her knee length dress ballooning out around her legs as she plunked down.  She was still again, as if her means of hiding from Daniel were as complicated as trying to blend into her surroundings without blatantly hiding.  The girl had gull. 

The Colonel cocked an eyebrow at the child.  This was the last thing that he needed—now he would be guilty by association.  The girl didn’t look up at him, she sat there rather calmly for as young as she was and watched the people around her.  Jack watched her.  He noticed that she was thin, longer in the back than he might have expected, with knobby knees and twig-like arms.  He caught himself idly wondering if Daniel had been that spindly as a child and then suddenly those eyes were upon him.  The cobalt blue of them was glaringly like her father’s, wide and curious and deep.  It made him grimace and that made the girl smile.  He wanted to shoo her away but he managed to restrain himself.  She was just a child after all.

“Are you Jack or O’Niell?” a tinkling little voice asked in perfectly pronounced English.  The Colonel was stunned for a moment—he wasn’t quite sure why—of course Daniel’s child would be able to speak perfectly.  She could probably speak perfectly in several languages.  Had it been the smallness of her voice or the question then that had shaken him?  Regaining his wits the soldier cleared his throat and admitted to being both, one in the same, the Col. Jack O’Niell of the United States Air Force.

The girl’s smile broadened and she picked herself up, maneuvering her body onto the crossed legs of his lap, as if she had been invited.  Jack grimaced and repositioned himself so her weight sat on his lap more comfortably and she turned as he did so, so that she could look up at him.  She did have an adorable smile that suited her small face.  She did look at lot like Daniel.  He could see how her nose was shaped like her father’s, how the height and splay of her cheek bones matched his, and how her eyes lacked the almond shape of her mother’s, favoring the softness of Daniel’s.  Yet her hair was black like Sha’uir’s, thick and curly just the same, making the blue of her iris’s all that more startling.

His thoughts were interrupted by a fast paced question from the girl.  “You came through the chaapa’ai, didn’t you?  I was there but daddy wouldn’t let me stay.  I’m glad that you came though.  Uncle Skaara must be happy you are here.  He talks all the time about you.  He tells me the story of how you freed us from Ra.”  Her hands came together and she moved them in a high swooping arch, as she elicited a gravely grinding sound—a deathglider sweeping in—followed by what could only ever be interpreted as machine gun fire—and the deathglider plummeted towards his knee, crashing into a fiery mess, with more well enunciated sound effects.  Is that how Skaara described it?  No doubt. 

That was a lot to take in and the Colonel was unsure what he was expected to respond or if he needed to at all.  He felt awkward with the child there with him.  It somehow made him feel worse about everything, like he shouldn’t be allowed to be near her—he was the _other._ He had kissed her father.  He had made love her father in ways that would mortify her mother.

“Daddy says your name sometimes when he is sleeping.” She blurted, nonplused by the comment—as if she had been able to infer from his body language alone exactly what had been passing through his mind.  Jack’s vision went black for a moment and he felt dizzy—was it elation or a heart attack?  The words made his heart ache and his mouth dry.  Daniel said his name…when he was sleeping?  What did that mean?  Why had she told him that?  Was it even true?

“Mama hates you.  She says you are trouble.” The girl continued and this time Jack managed a grimaced smile, with a nod.  His mouth was too parched to say anything and the words stung like thousands of little bee-stings.  Sha’uir hated him?  Was it because Daniel said his name in his sleep?  That made his heart swell—and other things.

“You are the hero though so I like you.  Tell me about what it’s like to come through the chaapa’ai.  I know Uncle Skaara wants to go with you.  I do too!” Just when her rambling was becoming unbearable there was a sharp call in the Abydonian tongue from behind the two of them and the little girl was on her feet in a flash, rigid with the guilt and fear of being caught.  A strong arm reached down and took a hold of the girl’s thin wrist, bodily dragging her away, as Jack craned his neck upwards to see Sha’uir’s cold black eyes rake over him.  He gave her an apologetic grin and shrugged his shoulders—wait, was he defending the child now?  If she was in trouble with her mother that was none of his business.  A few steps and mother and child had disappeared into the crowd.  No one else seemed to have noticed anything had happened.  The party hadn’t missed a beat. 

The Colonel felt somewhat relieved to have the child gone again but there was also a lingering nag that rapped incessantly at the backdoor to his mind—was it what the girl had said?  Sha’uir hated him.  Daniel said _his_ name in his sleep.  She wanted to go through the stargate.  Jack felt his stomach do a couple of summersaults as he considered these things.  He felt overjoyed with a suddenly renewed gush of hope and then the soldier in him condemned his hormonal dysfunction—he was nearly fifty for crying out loud not a fucking pimply faced testosterone indulged teenager.

Jack got to his feet and exited the square, with expert timing.  He needed to clear his head and it wasn’t going happen with all the fucking sexual tension he got from watching the archeologist.  He was going for a walk.

A couple of hours later there were three beseechingly beautiful moons high in a cloudless sky above and the sexually frustrated Colonel had cleared his head, only to find that he was fucking lost.  Damn, the city was bigger than he remembered.  He had turned too many corners, blindly running from the courtyard that he had no sense of direction or bearing.  All the streets started to look the same as the torches were extinguished and folks were ending the evening to go sleep it off in their beds.  The heat of the day was a distant memory now.  With the darkness had settle a chilled night and he was cursing himself for blithely rushing away without any forethought.  In just the dusty brown tee and his fatigues the Colonel was cold—not freezing but for damn sure uncomfortable. 

Without much chance of finding his own way back and no one around anymore to point him in the right direction, Jack found himself using the ladder systems to scale the adjoining buildings.  Once on the roof he could see out over the vast sea of buildings, stretching out around him in every direction.  He seemed to be right in the middle of it all, like a speck of sand lost in a large barrel of mud homes. 

“Well, this wasn’t much help.” He complained aloud to himself, with a heavy exasperated sigh.  Tipping the back of his ball-cap up to scratch where the band had sat all day on his head the soldier gave up and sat down on the ledge of the building, letting his aching back slouch and his legs dangle over the edge. 

Abydos really was vacant.  Despite all the people here it was mostly just sand and wind.  A far cry from the Minnesota wilderness.  The night was illuminated by the bright moons, all ranging in size and varying in proximity to the planet, each uniquely handsome in their own right.  The night was also quiet now too, save the odd insect chirp or buzz.  It was peaceful, he would give the place that.  He sighed again and rubbed his hands over the cold flesh of his biceps, trying to warm the cold skin.  It would be a frigid long night if he couldn’t find his way back before morning.

The silent night air was disrupted suddenly by shouting.  A woman who could shout a mile a minute was arguing with a man, who only managed to pepper the tirade here and there with his opinion.  Of course he understood none of it, except for what he could glean from their tone.  The woman was obviously unimpressed and upset with something the man had done.  Jack tried not to eavesdrop, despite the language barrier, but it was the only sound in the quiet night and it occupied his thoughts _.  Poor guy.  He’s getting one hell of a lashing.  Poor bastard can’t even get a word in to defend himself…_ Then he heard something slam—was it a door?—and stalking footsteps rushing, couldn’t be more than a house away. He tried to distract himself from their domestic dispute, tilting his head back to gaze up into the National Geographic worthy picture-perfect star filled sky, awe-inspiringly beautiful without any light pollution to hinder its brilliance and clarity, when someone breathed his name, “Jack…?”

The Colonel glanced to his left and saw a figure standing one rooftop over, clothed in Earth BDU’s.  The moonlight glinted of his spectacles and when he took a step forward Jack could clearly see him—Daniel.


	11. Chapter 11

“You mean this whole time—I swear I walked miles—and I ended up one house over?!  I can’t believe it.” Jack crowed, as he took a swig of the moonshine Daniel had brought with him to the rooftop.  The alcohol stung and he swallowed it, making the man grimace as it went down.  His face un-pinched at the sound of the other man’s chuckle. 

Jack looked over, glad to share the roof top with the archeologist.  With the other man there next to him and the moonshine in his belly he didn’t feel the cold anymore and felt more like himself than he had all day.

“Sorry if you heard that…” Daniel tried to apologize.

Jack wouldn’t let him.  He shoved the clay jar of moonshine back into the archeologist’s hands, replying, “You know damn well that I didn’t understand a thing.  Forget about it.”

The other man shrugged, still looking embarrassed.  Jack instinctively ruffled his long hair and then, remembering Sha’uir’s cold eyes, he awkwardly pulled back shifting his position away just a touch.  _Yup, awkward._ Daniel lifted the jar to his mouth and took a long swig.  Jack thought he grimaced less when he swallowed and wondered if the scientist was use to potency of drink. 

So many thoughts and emotions swirled inside of him, making his guts twist into knots.  He wanted to say so much and dared to say nothing.  _Hey, Danny, missed ya’ these last six years.  Feel like I have ta jump your bones everytime I see you and if I don’t soon I think I might have the worst case of blue balls old Doc Fraiser has ever seen._ He shook his head, dispelling the thoughts.  That would be a disaster.  He had to get a grip and man up about this.  They had more important things to think about—like when Apophis was going to rear his ugly head and just what they were going to do about the missing airmen. 

Like Daniel was listening to his thoughts—Damn, that really would be scary—the archeologist had filled him in on the discussions that him and the pretty Captain had shared earlier.  “Tomorrow we should take Sam over to the other temple with the gate addresses.  She needs to see it if she is going to use that information to change the dialing protocol back on Earth.”

“Right, the good Captain…” Jack said, agreeing with their decision and moving on to the tougher questions.  “And what do you figure about old snake head.  When do you think he will show up and wreak havoc?”

The other man shrugged and the Colonel noticed the shift in his features, contorted slightly by apprehension.  “We can’t even say for sure if Apophis will come to Abydos.  If he does, the stargate isn’t in the temple and there is no one around for miles.  Should at least save us some trouble, maybe give us some warning.  I doubt he’s going to walk all the way here.  Probably send his Jaffa, which is if he even knows where the city is from the mines.”

“Sounds like we don’t know shit.” Jack surmised bluntly.  Daniel offered him to moonshine and he took another long draught.

Daniel nodded his agreement, with a stiff upper lip, turning his head slightly away from the Colonel, his gaze staring intently down into the darkened street below them.  Sable eyes followed, assessing what he could make out in the dark, as if to occupy his thoughts through the silence that descended awkwardly between them.  They were about three stories high, overlooking interlocking buildings with ladders and suspended walkways connecting platforms and landings like lattice work, punctuated here and there by a wash line, hung with clean linens.  The street below was so shadowed that it was nearly impossible to make out.  The night was quiet.  Daniel was quiet.  That bothered him.

“It’s good to see you again.” Jack found himself blurting suddenly, much to his own chagrin.  He felt his face flush and as the archeologist turned to acknowledge the comment he fumbled with the words to explain himself.  Scratching the back of his head, he added, “Well, you know, I just…I thought that—well, we both knew I think—?”

“We’d never see each other again.” Daniel finished for him, stealing the words right out of his mouth.  THe scholar then stole the drink back and brought the rim of the clay jar to his mouth for another swallow.  Jack managed a thin grin and a clumsy nod, with a shrug of his shoulders.  Damn this was awkward.  Daniel had said the words softly, snorting a chuckle as he ended the sentence, turning knowing eyes on him that had raped the Colonel of his guard.  It felt good to see him smile like that again—that slight curl to the corner of his mouth that Jack had only glimpsed when they were alone—instantly melting his resolve.  He wanted to reach out and cup the other man’s face, catch the hard line of the other’s jaw between his fingers and pull his supple mouth to his own—claiming him.

The archeologist turned away again.  It was a good thing too.  Jack had almost done it, almost claimed the man as his own with an overpowering kiss and maybe a little slip of the tongue.  Daniel was staring off into space again, his shoulders hunched forward with his hands planted firmly on the edge of the ledge that they sat upon.  The jar of moonshine sat between them.  The scholar was looking down into the darkness below again.  Softly, he spoke, “I wanted to apologize for earlier, Jack.”

“You already did, remember?” the Colonel teasingly cut him off—he didn’t want to hear that again—but the brunette shook his head and continued regardless.

“No, Jack,” he said, his gaze stubbornly downcast, as his fingers fidgeted on the stone ledge, “I mean, for what happened when you came through the stargate today.” Jack was hit with the words and the memory—the way Daniel’s body had plowed into him, how tight his arms had been around his neck, and the feeling of his weight in his arms again, of his neck in the palm of his hand.  Daniel moistened his lips with a dart of his tongue, then chastised himself, “I shouldn’t have, I know that, but…I…?”

Jack brought his hand to the crown of the man’s head, gently smoothing down over his length of chestnut hair, over the collar of the green military jacket, to rest politely on his shoulder.  “It’s alright, Danny.” He calmingly whispered, the pet-name feeling natural on his tongue.

The archeologist was still for a moment, tense beneath his palm, and Jack wondered if he should remove his hand when finally the man shook out of the contact.  The Colonel drew his hand back but the scientist had twisted in his seat, his long fingers gripping his wrist.  Jack felt his breath hitch, caught in his windpipe as his throat constricted.  He met Daniel’s intense gaze—and the other man broke the contact, looking down and away again—without releasing his wrist.  His knuckles were white with the tight grip he had on Jack, unmoving, save for his breathing.  Jack was confused but had no intention of fighting the contact.

They stayed that way a long moment, nothing said and nobody moving.  Then slowly the other man came back to life before Jack’s eyes, his fingers drawing the Colonel’s hand to side of his face.  Jack felt his knuckles brush the slight stubble on the side of Daniel’s cheek, as his hand was moved closer.  The other man’s mouth parted and he felt soft supple lips pressing gently against the heel of his hand and again against the lowest part of his palm.  Jack swallowed.  His prick was at attention but he was frozen.  He hadn’t the gumption to push Daniel down and ravish the younger man as his cock was insisting, but there was no way in hell he was going to speak up and play the noble gentleman.  He just hung on for the ride, holding his breath to ensure he did nothing to spook the man’s bold intentions.

Daniel’s lips pressed earnestly against the smooth thin skin of his inner wrist and when they pulled away, Jack could see the tension in the younger man’s face.  The brunette’s bangs had fallen forward from behind his ears, curtaining his eyes from the Colonel’s view.  His mouth hovered near the other’s captured arm, his teeth raking over his bottom lip, chewing as though he were in deep thought.  “Jack…” his voice huskily called his name.

“Daniel,” Jack heard himself say.  Then his arms were crushing the other man to him, closing the distance between them with a powerful embrace.  The archeologist’s head was on his shoulder, his moist breath against the collar of his tee, and his arm was around the man’s back, the other was smoothing his hair down to the base of his neck.  His mouth kissed the crown of the brunette’s head and he could feel the others lips caressing the nape of his neck in return.  Hands roamed.  He felt Daniel’s strong fingers massaging and running the length of his torso, from his belt to his shoulder, both hands exploring.  Jack wanted to rip the man free of his clothing, turn him onto his stomach and take him without any more hesitation, but his fingers scrambled to undo the buttons of the old military jacket when strong hands gripped the sides of his face. 

Sable met cobalt—their eyes intensely trained on each other, mere inches apart, so close that the tips of their noses brushed and they could feel the hot moist breath of the other on their lips.  “Don’t say it.” Jack warned, pushing past Daniel’s strength to close the gap between them to cover the other man’s opened mouth with his own.  The kiss was strong, overwhelming, and claiming.  The kiss was accepted.

The Colonel felt the rough dart of the other’s tongue rushing over his bottom lip and parted his mouth wider to allow Daniel to delve inside, touching, teasing, licking.  Jack’s arm held the archeologist’s lithe frame to himself, not wanting to ever let the man go again, when Daniel pushed a small space between.  He had dropped his head, his forehead hitting Jack’s chin, turning to rest against his cheek.  They were both panting, their breathing hard and fast.  “Jack…” Daniel whispered his name longingly.

“I said, I don’t wanna hear it,” Jack reinforced, roughly grabbing the other man’s chin to pull his mouth back up to his.  He claimed the archeologist’s lips again, pushing his tongue past into the sweet crevice.  He wasn’t going to take no for an answer now—not now dammit!  He couldn’t stop.  He refused.

Daniel struggled, his hands coming between them to plant firmly on his chest attempting to push Jack back.  When he tried to turn his face away the Colonel captured his neck within his large palm and redirected his mouth back.  He grabbed one of the pushing arms and disentangled it, pulling it out of his way.  The scientist bucked, rocking back on his bottom, but Jack wouldn’t let go and they both tumbled backward off the ledge and onto the rooftop.  Daniel’s back hit the ground with a dull thwack and the Colonel fell on top of him, quickly parting the other man’s legs and slipping between them.  He pinned Daniel’s hands above his head in one large hand, his mouth trailing kisses over the lightly stubbled throat and over the black tee to the hardened nipples beneath, as his other hand roamed down the torso the rest of the way to his belt.  As his tongue suckled at the other man’s pert nipples beneath the cotton, his fingers worked at unfastening the belt, button, and fly. 

“Jack…” his name was called again, panted not protested.

The Colonel’s mouth moved across the chest to the other hard nipple, his tongue circling, as his cold hand delved into the open fly of the fatigues, where the archeologist’s hard cock pulsed beneath the grip of his fingers.  He felt his own erection straining at the fly of his dessert camo, straining to be freed, as digits massaged the smooth cock and slipped lower to circle around each of his testicles, applying pressure to the skin below, before moving back up to stroke each section again in turn.

“Jack, I…” Daniel’s voice called his name again, this time sounding more urgent—more distressed.  “No..I can—?”

The last word was muffled by Jack’s open palm.  Daniel’s free hands came to his wrist gripping tightly, but not applying enough pressure to remove his hand—although he could have if he had wanted to.  Jack allowed his other hand to leave the other man’s fly to reef the hem of the cotton tee back and up his lean torso, exposing the expanse of his abdominals, naval, and hips.  Jack kept the other hand firmly over the others mouth, as he moved lower, trailing kisses as far south as he could.  His tongue circled the curve of the belly button, flicking in and out, making the other man shiver, as his other hand returned to stroking the thick length of the archeologist’s erection.  He heard Daniel moan—a gloriously intoxicating sound—that was suddenly cut off by a distinctly feminine call.

“My Dan’yel?” it was Sha’uir calling her husband, hopefully from the platform below that Daniel had used to climb to the roof. 

The Colonel felt a sharp elbow jab his ribs, as the archeologist thrust his body off, frantic hands moving to do up the fly and belt.  Jack swallowed his disappointment like a vile tasting reflux of bile, grimacing in the direction of the voice that called, “Dan’yel?”, again.  The brunette was on his feet the minute that his belt was refastened, smoothing his hair back behind his ears as Jack seated himself upright on the rooftop. 

As the Colonel rested his elbows on his knees the dark hair woman’s head appearing over the lip of the ledge behind them, as she climbed the rickety ladder.  Her full mouth twisted upwards into forced smile as she tipped her head, acknowledging the Colonel as she apologized, “I sorry to interrupt.”

“It’s okay, Sha’uir, there’s nothing to interrupt.” Daniel replied with a smoothness that belied the tremble of his fists rigid at his sides.  “I was just leaving to come to bed.”  The scientist turned back to Jack, with a quick, “See you in the morning, Jack.  The rest of the soldiers have been bedded downstairs on the ground level of Kasuf’s home.  Just take this ladder and the next down to the bottom floor and you will see where it is.  Good night.”

Then he waved lamely and disappeared in haste.  Jack was alone again. 


	12. Chapter 12

Daniel could feel his teeth chewing releltnlesly on his bottom lip when he followed the shapely hourglass shape of his wife’s figure into the room where they both slept.  The sleeping pallet was small and low, raising the itchy straw mattress up off of the floor only a few inches.  The room was smaller.  It was only spacious enough to allow for the mattress and a makeshift shelving unit that the scholar has fashioned to hold his journals and textbooks.  There was a crude ledge cut into the mud walls above the head of the bed and that was where Daniel placed his glasses as he disrobed to climb into bed.

The breath came out of the archeologist in a long wheeze, as he mechanically went about removing the earth clothes.  His mind was a jumbled mess, twisting and pulling in every direction it could within the confines of his skull, resulting in the ache that was slowly building between his temples. 

What had happened up there on that roof?  What had he been thinking?  He hadn’t been thinking—not with his brain at any rate.  Daniel hadn’t considered what he would do when Jack came through the stargate and back into his life.  He had tried over these last six years to forget about the Colonel and their passionate relationship.  He needed to focus on Sha’uir and Nagada and Jack had to focus on Earth and sparring the SGC from the threats on the other side of the gate.  It was the reason why they had reset time in the first place after all—to stop the Vashen’s from their plans to annihilate Earth’s inhabitants and consume the planets base minerals.  It was what Sam and Teal’c had given their lives for—for the chance that they could make a difference.

Love didn’t factor into that kind of thing.  It wasn’t of consequence anymore.  Protecting and surviving was what mattered.

Then why were they here at this quandary?  When Daniel had submit to the Colonel’s passions all those years earlier he hadn’t had a wife anymore—Sha’uir and Amaunet were dead.  He had been alone and a little lost, yearning for direction and purpose.  Jack had given that to him.  The soldier had shown him that he meant something to someone, to a lot of people, and that he could still make a difference.  Daniel had loved him—completely—for loving him as honestly and whole-heartedly as he did.

Now what was there?  Complications.  The scholar was married still, with a doting wife, and his darling little girl.  They were his life now.  He was devoted to making that work—he had been anyway—up on that roof may have told a different story.  He must have been out of his head—out of his mind—he had latched onto Jack like a lonely and desperate parasite, wanting and needing to take from the Colonel what would satiate him.  Had his actions been anything other than selfish?  He had hurt both of them now.  Jack and Sha’uir.  He could not give himself completely to either of them.

Cold gentle hands shocked his midsection, as he was blinded by his black tee when the scholar was pulling it over his head to remove it.  The surprise made him shrink back, instinctually protecting, as he tugged the tee off.  When his head was free of the cotton he was looking down into the face of his wife, wrought with tears.  His jaw clenched as he looked down into the umber darkness of her tormented eyes, rimmed in the flowing black flashes and topped by her thin brows, creased in anguish.  Her hands slid around his middle to wrap about him, as her chin rested on his sternum and she pressed her body against him.  Her chest was rocking with the sobs even her stubbornness could not hold back. 

Daniel was struck with guilt and a sense of helplessness seeing her broken like this.  Sha’uir had always been strong, independent, and fierce.  She brought a passion to everything she did.  This was not like her and he knew it was because of him that she had been reduced to this weeping woman, clinging to her husband for fear she would lose him—would she?  Daniel whispered her name as he felt the warm sting of tears in his own eyes, and leant forward to press his mouth against her forehead.  He smoothed her curls back and brought his arms around her shoulders, holding her to him. 

She looked into his face, chin still on his chest, as she lamented the thoughtless act of betraying his word and sending Cindel to watch him, of not trusting his intentions, of her inability to satisfy his needs.  She carried on in Abydonian, never breaking to English, and although Daniel tried to stop the flow, for it hurt him to hear her say it aloud as much as it had been tormenting her, he could not silence her.  She proclaimed that she had to tell him, that he had to know, and that she would do anything within her power to heal the harm she had caused.  Daniel felt miserable and by the end they were both weeping. 

She was just scared.  She was scared of losing him.

Daniel laid his wife down onto the mattress, kissing her full lips, caressing her large breasts, and made love to her, as her tears dried on her cheeks.  She had moaned in delight and cried out in ecstasy as they climaxed together, for the first time in over a year.  Then they had slumped against their pillows intertwined in one another’s arms, unwilling to break the contact.  And as his wife fell into a peaceful sleep beside him, the archeologist wept for Jack.


	13. Chapter 13

“Did you not sleep well, Dr. Jackson?” Sam asked him, leering at the scientist with an air of sought confirmation from across the low table in the centre of Kasuf’s main living area, where the soldiers and his family were gathered for breakfast.

The room was almost too small to fit all the bodies that now tried to occupy it.  Many of the soldiers were present and sitting cross legged around the rough low rectangular table, shifting uncomfortably on the ornately woven rug, probably missing the comforts of Earth dining. 

“Mm-hmm, just fine.  Thanks.” He replied, the last word fairly garbled by a long yawn that he attempted to hide behind a cupped hand. 

In truth Daniel wasn’t sure how much he had slept.  He had laid in bed with the warm comfort of his wife’s slumbering form beside him until the sun came up, flitting in and out of sleep, lost in dreams of chasing the Colonel through a terrifyingly real sand storm.  He was always just out of reach, their hands and fingers straining for one another’s grip as the sand stung his skin and blinded his vision.  He never succeeded and he had the rings under his eyes to prove it.  It was going to be a long day.

“Don’t worry, Daniel, the Colonel looks like shit too.” Ferreti laughed heartily, hitching a thumb to the doorway.  The scientist’s vision followed the gesture, glancing up over his hot cup of steeping tea one of the bustling woman had deposited in his eager hands, to see Jack slowly trudging into the room.  The soldier’s silvered hair was mussed in all directions, his stubble looked rough and foreboding, and his sable color of his eyes was lost under the hood of his drooping eyelids. 

The man’s hearing was still acute, despite his look of abstraction.  “Shut your mug, Lou.” The snap was quick and concise, followed immediately by a quick austere scowl at the subordinate, which only served to widen Ferreti’s grin.  When the Colonel bent down to lower himself to a sitting position on the floor around the table, where food of every description had been put out as a spread for their guests, his knees popped and Jack gave an answering wheeze of pain.  The archeologist had seen the soldier in much better moods—he obviously hadn’t slept much either and Daniel couldn’t help but feel responsible.

“So,” the Colonel started, propelling the conversation away from himself and onto the business at hand, “Carter, what kind of a plan have you and the good doctor here come up with?”

Daniel watched Sam shrug, as she launched casually into a lengthy explanation of all that the two of them had discussed the previous day, starting with the fact that the aliens hadn’t come from Abydos.  The scientist watched the woman that he had known as a good friend in his previous timeline, so young again and full of vigor, ready to impress and unafraid to use her brain to do it.  She was animated and excited as she filled the bored Colonel in, waving her hands as she spoke and smiling as she theorized about the possibility that the stargate may lead to other planets. _Little does she know_ , he thought dreadfully.

They would take her to the temple with the stargate addresses and she would do her work from there, opening the SGC and Earth up to the numerous other planets that stargate network was capable of sending them to—some of them good and some of them bad.  The nature of the universe.  As he listened to her he wondered what the two of them had gotten Earth into by reversing time.  They hadn’t thought it through—there had been no time for that—did they really think that they could avert all the dangers that lurked on the other side of the gate?  Was it even possible to remember every single time they had gone through and encountered untoward circumstances?  Maybe they could.  Maybe they could save Kawalsky from the goa’uld larva on Chulak.  Maybe he could keep his wife safe here on Abydos.  Maybe they could save Earth from the Vashen invasion.  If they did all this would it make a difference?  Would it save Earth or just open it up to an attack from another conquering alien race?

“Dr. Jackson?” Sam’s soft speech called him out of his thoughts and he jerkily returned to their conversation, lost.

“Hmm—?  Sam, please, call me Daniel.” He reminded her, using it as an excuse to distract from his obvious inattentiveness.  She flushed slightly, the apples of her cheeks round as she pursed her lips and nodded.  In the moments of silence that followed the break he had caused in their discussion, it was the Colonel that was first to redirect the conversation.

“Carter was just wondering, if you were done staring off into space, if you could enlighten the rest us on just how long it is gonna’ take to get to the other temple that you found.” Jack filled him in, rather dryly— _what was with that tone?_

Daniel felt a little on edge because of the caustic-sounding comment—his memory remembering such a tone used many times in the past by the Colonel when here on Abydos.  He knew what that tone meant he just wasn’t quite sure why—he had an idea but his theory was still on shaky ground.  It hadn’t been his fault that their interlude the previous night had gone awry—he should have never allowed it in the first place.  Clearing his throat Daniel shook off the edge that comment had left—a trick he’d learned long before he had ever met the Colonel—and wet his lips before beginning to do as he had been asked.  “Well, the temple, the pyramid, the mines where the stargate is, and the city are all set out in a sort of rectangular pattern.  After exploring around the pyramid and the city I eventually found another temple.  The people here didn’t know about it because Ra had forbid them to travel in that direction, but it was still close enough to the pyramid, where the stargate use to be, that it was easily accessible for him and his guards.  From the city it will probably take a couple of hours mastadge-ride.”

“Another temple?” Sam inquired, looking intrigued, “What’s in it?”

“Oh, no doubt sciency type stuff, Captain.  I’m sure you’ll love it.  Daniel,” Jack barked his name, instantly grabbing his attention and putting the archeologist on edge.

The scientist caught himself nervously picking at his nails and irritably buried his hands under his legs, as he addressed the suddenly re-hardened Colonel, which he had thought he had broken-in years ago, with the same sarcastic-prone exterior he had adopted then to deal with the brusque tones and undue comments.  “Yes, Colonel?”

“A few hours?” the man said, squinting at him contumely, “Can you be a little bit more specific?  I don’t wanna just ride off into the sunset without leaving a couple of my men here and in order to do that I kind of need a better scope of how long this is gonna’ take.  Kapeesh?”

Daniel bit his lip with his grinding teeth to prevent from calling the churlish Colonel out on his bullshit attitude, when Kawalsky indignantly cut in.  “In leaving a couple of men behind, I’m assuming that you mean me and Lou?”

The Colonel gave his subordinate a surly glare, snapping, “No, Kawalsky, I was referring to the _other_ soldiers we brought with us—what the hell did you think I meant?”

Daniel watched the soldier swallow another aggravated comeback when his comrade jabbed him in the ribs roughly with his elbow, jeering, “Taking us will only bring down the intelligence level more than the Colonel already will himself.  Let ‘em go and look at broken pots and dusty tombs, Kawalsky.” Ferreti popped another piece of the fresh fruit into his mouth and snapped off a salute in Jack’s general direction, announcing around the food he chewed and with a wink at the Colonel, “We’ll hold down the fort, sir.”

“Good.” Was all Jack said, before he began to stuff his face with food.

They all ate, enjoying the fresh cut fruits and vegetables, the hard-boiled eggs and succulent fried meats, and the fresh fruit juice that the women had painstakingly squeezed for their guests that morning.  The conversation was minimal.  Jack ignored him.  He tried to attentively converse with Sam, but she was turned off by his frequent moments of distraction—his mind to scattered by the Colonel’s unbridled  earlier to focus on the discussion.  When they had all ate their fill, Sha’uir brought him some food to pack with them for the day and to say her farewell.  When they were leaving she had ensnared him in a quick full body embrace, capturing his mouth in a sensual kiss that bordered on inappropriate, and he had tried to pull away without being too unkind.  He pulled her arms down from around his neck and bent to peck her lips one more time, for good measure.  Then his legs were attacked. 

Cindel flung herself against him, wrapping her small arms tightly around his waist as she pressed her face into his belly.  He laughed and bent to try and embrace the form that was plastered to him—forgetting about Jack and the caustic comments—as he took the girl under the arms and hefted her onto his hip.  They bent their heads together and chuckled privately to themselves as their noses rubbed.  When his daughter pulled back from him in his arms he tapped her little button nose with his index finger, instructing the child, “Now you behave, Cindle Samantha Jackson, while daddy is away.  If you don’t your mama will make sure that I hear about it, alright?”

The laughter was replaced with a horrible grating sigh of exasperation, followed dramatically by his daughter’s body going limp in his arms, his little dessert flower wilted by his order.  He barred his teeth and dipped his head to blow raspberries against the sensitive nape of her neck, as his fingers tickled at her belly.  Her body went rigid and squirmed beneath his attack, spurting giggles and plaintive pleas for him to stop.  His wife intervened, taking the girl from his arms and holstering her onto her own hip.  Sha’uir leaned in again prompting him for another quick kiss, which he gave her, before his daughter managed to grab his face and pull him in for a kiss of her own.  He kissed her too, delighted by the way she giggled afterward, and then pulled away.  He placed the bag of food into his pack and then shouldered the pack, waving good bye to his family before he led the group of soldiers from his home to the mastadge pen.

They took two of the beasts, riding in groups of two.  Daniel had taken Sam with him, even though he was not exactly the most skilled rider, and Skaara took the Colonel with him.  It was a long ride, spent mostly in silence and self-contemplation.  Daniel was lost in his own tumultuous thoughts and it seemed that the young Captain had given up trying to engage him in a dialogue any longer than a couple of sentences—his mind just wasn’t in it.  Skaara and Jack did more talking than Daniel would have thought.  The space that separated them was enough to make overhearing their sporadic conversations difficult.  He caught snippets of words, mostly from the Colonel, who was naturally louder.  He overheard his name once and of course it was tailed by a crow of laughter that both of the men shared.  At least they didn’t point and laugh. 

By the time the tip of the pyramidal temple came into view Daniel exhaled a resigned sigh.  Finally.  The temple and the importance of the thousands of gate addresses depicted there would be a welcomed distraction.  It was a step forward through the day that would be easy and engaging—something to get his mind off of everything else.  As they crested a large swooping sand dune and the temple came into full view, Daniel heard Sam intake a sharp breath which was followed by a barely audible exclamation of surprise and awe.

It brought a smile to the man’s lips.  He had thought the same thing when he had first come upon the golden temple, with its impressive columned entrance.  It was very small in comparison to Ra’s pyramid that only just out of view to the west of them, perhaps an hours walk away.  This temple served a very different purpose, of which exactly he still was not quite sure, other than the fact that the gate symbols here would serve to open the Earth to the vast system of stargate’s that spanned galaxies.

The temple had been neglected since his last visit nearly three years prior.  There really wasn’t much of a reason for anyone to frequent the site.  The Abydonians had no need for the temple.  It was virtually empty and lacked any other writing other than the numerous series of symbols.  He had tried to find more, exploring every inch of it, but had come up empty handed.  He still wasn’t sure what Ra had really used it for.  It had not been a place of worship for even Kasuf and the eldest of the Abydonian’s had not known that it existed.  But all that really didn’t matter now.  It would serve them just fine.  They just had to get Sam down there.

“Wow,” he heard Sam say from behind him on the mastadge.  Daniel smiled.  _Just wait ‘til you see what inside, Sam._

Once the mastadges had been tied up and they were actually inside the temple, things had taken off according to plan.  Daniel had explained what he had theorized the symbols were, debated with Sam a little about the existence of other stargates, and ended with her exhilarated deduction that the stellar drift had caused the failure of the permutations she had ran back on earth and that she could calculate for that difference.  They discussed the hundreds of series of glyphs and videotaped the extensively covered walls of the small temple, as Jack and Skaara quietly lingered off to the side, evidently bored.

It had been more fun than the archeologist had thought to watch his young comrade come to the same conclusions that had led to the same discovery years ago, the first time they had stood together in this temple, when they had first met one another.  Seeing her face flush with the excitement and her mouth move rapidly to get all the words out that were popping into her brain, as she figured and theorized throughout the led discussion.  It reminded him of how enticed he had been when he had come to the same conclusion, so many years prior, amidst the dust and sand, as he had poured over the glyphs with Sha’uir right there at his side—the thought made him pause. 

It had been a different time then.  That was long before Apophis, long before Amounet had possessed his wife, long before Teal’c had killed her to save his life…long before Jack. 

The brunette hazarded a backwards glance at the soldier leaning haphazardly against a column hear the stone doorway into the large golden room, his glazed eyes tired and blasé, skimming over the glyph-covered walls in petulance.  His ball cap was pulled down low, shading the sable color of his eyes, and his muscled arms were crossed casually over the top of the P90 that was slung over his shoulder and rested against his middle.  He was the picture of boredom.  Yet he hadn’t voiced any protest.  The archeologist wondered how much of his will power it was taking for the Colonel to remain silent, allowing the dialogue between himself and the Captain to transpire uninflected by his own apathy. 

Seeing him ‘take one for the team’ allowed the focus that the brunette had worked so hard to maintain the last hour or so to lapse and wander.  His studious gaze drifted up and down the other man’s torso, no longer just assessing but now moving at his own body’s interest—the set of his thin lips in his square jaw, the way his cotton tee clung to his chest and shoulders, the ripple of muscle that led up his forearm to his bicep, the trim waist of his military issued fatigues belted about his hips, the way the dessert-camo tee was tucked into said belt…A pang in his lower abdomen brought him back to reality and the fact that such activities would have uncomfortable consequences.  He chastised his forethought, wishing he had worn his traditional robes and not the old BDU’s.  The robe would have offered more grace when dealing with this kind of thing.

The archeologist shifted his weight from one foot to another, casually adjusting himself to hopefully dispel the growing problem.  Sam noticed.  Daniel pursed his lips and gave her a wan smile, trying to cover up for the mishap by launching into another discussion on mapping the constellations here on Abydos with some of the glyphs he had found in the chamber.  Although her cheeks seemed a little pinker she took the bait.  She took off with the topic and he tried to pay attention to where she was running with it, when Jack finally interrupted.

“I’m glad that you two can talk for hours about this sorta’ thing, but can ya’ please wrap it up?” the Colonel chided, with bombastic flare that bit deep.  Had he seen the mis-exchange between them?  Is that why he had stepped in so suddenly?  Daniel wanted to respond with something but the soldier beat him to the punch, adding succinctly, “Haven’t you covered all of it yet?”  That was directed right at the scientist and those sable eyes landed on him with a pleading expression that beguiled Daniel.  Jack was actually paying attention and cared about the task at hand, above his own unveiled impatience.  He didn’t want to leave without Carter having fully come to her own conclusions about the stargate addresses.

“Well,” Daniel said, clearing his throat, as he indicated Sam’s camcorder, “if the Captain is done filming all the glyphs then I think it would be safe to say that we are done.”

Sam tipped the camcorder towards her CO, smiling a pretty pink smile, as she admitted, “Got it all, sir.”

“Good.  We’re leaving then.” He ordered, turning on his heel and walking out of the room.  Skaara followed close behind.

Sam glanced over at Daniel and apologetically shrugged.  Daniel shook his head to dismiss her concern and then outstretched his arm to invite her to go first.  She thanked him, still calling him ‘doctor’ and using his last name.  He followed after her and they left the golden room together, walking out into the sand filled corridor that led to the main entrance.

Sand was everywhere, swirling in gusting patterns that made pluming clouds in the air made up of fine dust and dirt.  Daniel choked and then sneezed, repeatedly.  Wiping his hand on his pants he looked up to see that the entrance was completely blocked by a wall of blasting sand, stirred up by the strong gusts of wind outside.  It was just the beginning of a sand storm.

“Shit!” he heard Jack curse, and then those eyes narrowed on him almost as if in accusation.  The Colonel proffered an open palmed gestured towards the door way, demanding an explanation by simply stating his name.  “Daniel…?”

The archeologist shrugged and shook his head, immediately apologizing, “Sorry, Jack, I didn’t know.”  Then he caught himself.  _Wait?  I’m apologizing for the whims of the weather now?  What the hell…_

“It will be long, O’Niell.” Skaara amended quickly, motioning for the soldier to move back into the main room of the temple, “We must wait.  We are safe here.”

Daniel clamped his mouth shut.  There wasn’t much more to add.  It was what it was.  They were stuck for the time being. 

Jack gave an audible grunt of vexation, marching back towards the room he’d just been so eager to abandon.  Following the Captain back in, when he passed by, the soldier roughly jarred Daniel with his shoulder.  The archeologist rocked back a step from the force of the intentional blow and he bit his teeth together to keep a swear at bay.  Skaara stopped to give him an assessing look, as though he expected his brother in law to do something about the belligerent incident, but he said nothing.

“What about the mastadges?” Daniel demanded to know hastily, to divert the subject.

Skaara answered that the animals would be fine until the storm passed over his shoulder, heading out of the corridor.  They had been sheltered in the lee of the steps that led to the main entrance and would be protected from the raging winds of the growing storm.  Daniel was left by himself in the dusty entrance way, amongst the unmarked columns that rose twenty feet to the stone ceiling of the modest temple.  He cursed his luck and then sneezed again, three times.  He cursed again and wiped his sleeve across his aggravated nose. 


	14. Chapter 14

_Shit!  Fuck!  Dammit!  Fuck, fuck-itty-fuck-fuck!_ Jack kicked a pebble with the tow of his boot, sending the stone clinking down the long corridor of the sandy entrance.  The sound completely absorbed by the roar of the storm outside as it bounced off one of the columns and disappeared into the darkness ahead.  The sand storm was still raging even after the sun had set.  The winds whipped so strongly that it sounded like a freight train charging past, drowning out all other sounds from the interior of the temple. 

They had been stuck in the stuffy old temple all day, trapped by the fucking storm.  He had wondered at one point if he was cursed to die of blue-balls—a clear display of his obvious inability to restrain his own raging hormones, charging through his system like the gusting winds whipped the sands that trapped him there.  Daniel had been trapped with him, fucking sexy in his old BDU’s and his long hair loose about his face and neck.  And of course, because it was Abydos and the planet was basically a giant oven, they’d all ended up hot and sweaty in the sweltering heat.  The way the black tee had clung to Daniel’s toned midsection had been like a shot of Viagra to Jack’s already testosterone charged body—pumping him up with little effort on his own part. 

Now, Jack was at his wits end.  He wasn’t sure how much longer he could deal with being this fucking close to the other man without losing his grip and ripping the BDU’s clean off of him and savagely taking what he wanted.

When night had come and they were still stuck the Colonel had guessed he was doomed.  They would have to spend the night.  As the others had shared the food that Daniel’s loving thoughtful wife had packed for them, Jack had given a crappy excuse and vacated.  The only place to go was this corridor, seeing the tiny temple had only one room, and he was pretty sure with how much sneezing Daniel had done earlier that he would stay well away.  Jack hoped he could rid himself of the erection alone in the darkness, now that the others had settle down to try and get some rest.

The soldier stopped his pacing and brought a hand down to palm his uncomfortably swollen member through the crotch of his pants.  He sighed with frustration and then glanced around to make sure he was alone.  The corridor was empty and it looked as though the lights and torches had been put out in the other room.  Safe.  He ducked in between the three foot space left between the massive limestone pillars and crouched back against the wall.  The coolness of the stones was a welcoming relief from the broiling heat of the temple during the long afternoon.  He savored the feeling for a moment, allowing his back to relax against the surface, to soak up the chill the temple now offered, hoping it would rid him of some of his tension.

Jack’s hand went to undo his belt as he let his long legs spread out in front of him.  When it was opened he undid the button and fly and slipped his hands beneath the waist band of his underwear.  Everything was hot and sticky.  The feeling made him think of Daniel—he had been hot and sticky all day too—and his imagination went a little wild. 

In his mind he saw himself standing over the other man, looking down at the way his length of chestnut hair, glinting with a glimmer of red from the suns warm rays, fanned out over the back of his neck and the collar of the gray, comically ironic Dr. Who tee he wore now and then on his off time.  It was one of the many secret pieces of Daniel that became apparent to a select few that knew him close enough to be invited to see him relax.  Cradled in his lap with care was a thick heavy-bound book.  The man was reading—as usual—lost within the reference text.  Daniel was sitting cross-legged on one of the long cushioned lawn chairs Jack kept on his back deck for summer lounging, slouched forward, perfectly still and content, over the thick non-pictured book in front of him.  The only movement that the archeologist made was the slight turn of his head as his eyes ate up the words before him and then the quick flick of his hand turning the page.  Jack saw his own hand come out, gently coming to the back of the other’s neck.  The fringe of his long hair covered the squared tips of his fingers, as he began to massage gently.  Daniel eventually leaned back to tilt his head up at Jack, letting go a long sigh that seemed to hum with affection.  His full lips were formed into a gently curved smile, as the depths of his blue eyes met Jack’s, full of pleased appreciation.  His half-rimmed glasses had slid halfway down his nose and the depth of his sapphire eyes stared up at him from over the navy rims.

“Daniel,” he heard himself whisper longingly.

“Jack,” Daniel’s lips moved as he said his name.  It hadn’t been a question.  It was a statement, pregnant with admiration, trust, and companionability.  Daniel said his name like he wanted him.  Like he needed him.

Jack took a commanding step forward, swinging his leg over the elongated seat of the olive cushioned chair, so quick that the archeologist didn’t have the time to remove the book from his lap, as his legs uncrossed just in time for the Colonel plunk himself between them—on the text.  Daniel laughed, only sort of complaining about the intrusion and the sat on book, as Jack’s hands grabbed his face and covered his smiling mouth with his own.  His fingers were in the sweat dampened hair, heated by the sun that bathed his south facing back deck in the middle of the summer.  His tongue was exploring the archeologist’s mouth, tasting his morning coffee on his tongue mixed with the beer he had just finished while reading.  The younger man’s legs shifted, lifting up to come over the Colonel’s thighs, inviting the him to move closer—Jack took full advantage of the offer, hearing the pages of the book lament the sudden shift with a subtle rip.  Daniel didn’t stop.  Neither did he.

Daniel’s tongue battled with his own for dominance.  The scientist flicked back and moved into his mouth, no longer content with the soldier’s ravishing appetite and now comfortable enough with their relationship to take from Jack what he desired.  The younger man leaned forward, straightening his back to use his height against the aggressive attack of the Colonel’s, suddenly shifting control of the interlude.  Jack felt himself allowing Daniel to overcome him, as the man’s hands raked through his short hair and over his slightly stubbled cheeks.  While the brunette took over he shifted his focus, moving his hands down the tight torso of his lover to the waist band of the mossy-colored cargo shorts, his fingers making quick work of the belt, button and fly, to slip inside the boxer-briefs and grip the engorged cock within.  Daniel moaned, a deep guttural sound of pleasure that made his own erection twitch in response.  He tightened his grip on the silken shaft in his hand and picked up the pace, setting a quick steady rhythm that made the other’s breath hitch. 

Daniel’s commanding ministrations paused, his mouth falling slightly open with pleasure.  Jack smiled wickedly, pecking the corner of his lips with a quick kiss, as he demanded to know, “Do you like that…?”  The other’s head bobbed up and down, _yes!_ Jack quickened his pace and Daniel moaned again, long and low, so close to his ear that Jack could feel the heat of his lover’s breath brush his earlobe.  Then the other man shuddered, his torso tightening, fingers gripped his shoulders and the collar of his own green tee, as his erection pulsed in his hand.  He could feel the heat of the other man, spilling over his rough knuckles.  He kissed the corner of the other’s mouth again.  “I need more, Jack.” The brunette’s husky voice whispered into his ear, as his hips rocked forward salaciously, “I need you.  Now.”

Jack smiled again.  “Of course you do.” He said, cocky, as his hands gripped the waist of the cargo shorts and reefed them down the others thighs, then awkwardly up and off.  He tossed them back behind them, somewhere, not caring, as he took the other man’s hips into his hands and roughly pulled him forward. 

Daniel quickly repositioned the back of the chair, laying it down as far as it would go, before stretching out in front of Jack—offering all of himself.  Jack undid his jeans, slipped his erection out, and used the wetness of his lover’s orgasm to slick the tip.  When he slipped inside the archeologist’s gave a sharp in take of breath and he felt fingers gripping the back of his neck.  Jack gave a hard thrust and felt his own cock sink satisfyingly deep within his lover.  Daniel moaned his name.  It was full of need, and want, and pleasure.  He pulled his hips back slowly and gave another deep quick thrust.  Daniel panted his name again.  “Jack.  Yes.”  He thrust again.  Twice, Three times.  He heard his name and thrust again.  Then Daniel said his name once more and something was different.  Something was wrong.  “Jack…?”

His eyes shot open and he zipped his pants up so fast he nearly caught himself in it.  He could hear someone moving, tentatively, cautiously.  With his belt redone he climbed to his feet.  He heard a sneeze and a muttered curse.  “Jack…?  You there?”  Daniel.

The soldier came out of the darkness that the night and the pillars provided.  He could barely see the other man behind the piercing white light of the small flash light that hit his vision.  “Dammit, Daniel,” he cursed, shielding his eyes, “blind me why don’tcha.”

The apology was quick and sputtered as the light fell to the ground.  Jack sensed that he had spooked the archeologist.  Perhaps jumping out at the man from the dark hadn’t been the best option.  The little flash light had rolled over the rectangular cut stones closer to his boot than Daniel’s and so the Colonel bent quickly to retrieve it.  The scientist apparently had had the same idea and as their hands met over the little flash light so did their heads—with a painful thunk.  They were knocked back onto their butt’s by the sudden blow in the darkness.  They both cursed and rubbed the sore spot. 

“Daniel—for crying out loud!  Watch it!” Jack ordered, through muttered cursing. 

“Sorry—I shoulda just left it—I just—I didn’t see you bend to get it…I’m sorry, Jack.” Daniel’s voice came at him through the darkness in a rush of painfully passive and jumbled sentences.  Only half of what he said had made sense to Jack after the fantasy that he had been whacking-off to earlier and the way that he had wanted Daniel to sound. 

The archeologist was just a dark form on the ground in front of him, until his fingers plucked the flash light up and set it on its end so that the beam hit the ceiling.  The white light cast an eerie glow between them, creating harsh shadows on their features.  Jack pulled on the bill of his ball cap, lowering it a little, knowing that the shadow would completely cover his eyes.  He felt like hiding in it with the other man suddenly in front of him now.  He watched the scientist from the shadow of the bill, his eyes free to dart longing glances up and down the others darkened form that knelt before him.  Daniel was still in the earth BDU’s from their first mission through the stargate, jacket back on now that night had fallen and the air had chilled.  It seemed somehow smaller on him now than it had before.  Jack was surprised to see that he had filled it out that much more since then, reminding him of the lonely times he’d spent the last six years at the gym without the other man.

The soldier swore at the fleeting painful thought aloud, before he realized it, and he could see the hurt expression that flitted across the archeologist’s features.  It had been brief, quickly masked by eyes that seemed to hood with an air of concealment.  Was Daniel protecting himself from him?  Jack had been peevish lately—his automatic response to being abandoned so casually on the rooftop the night prior.  No matter what the reasons were, the soldier couldn’t help the fact that he felt slighted.  Sarcasm was his auto-piloted way of dealing with the awkward situation. 

The Colonel knew what he wanted from the man.  He had since he had stepped through the stargate again.  That didn’t mean that he could expect to get it.  And if he didn’t—which was the inevitable outcome—he wasn’t sure how he was going to handle it.  So far, he’d been ignoring it—or at least trying to and it hadn’t helped the situation any.  If he was honest, he’d probably just made it worse.

“I just wanted to…well, that is I just intended to make sure that—you know, that you were…well, I mean of course, you’re okay…” Daniel’s shaken voice began to ramble again, skipping and stuttering through sentences, as he made flippant half-thought gestures, only serving to annoy the Colonel more. 

“Spit it out, Daniel.” He barked.

There was an audible hitch in the other man’s voice and then there it was.  The last thing Jack wanted to get out of the brunette.  “I’m sorry, Jack, f-for what happened last night.  I never should have done that.  It was wrong and I just wanted to make sure that my intentions were clear…”  Daniel’s voice was cut off by the right hook that hit him square in the jaw.


	15. Chapter 15

Daniel knew what had hit him.  It was a rock hard knuckle sandwich if he’d ever felt one.  Right on the money too.  The force of the blow had knocked him backwards, laying him out flat on the sandy stones of the temple floor with enough force to knock the glasses right off of his face.  Dazed and slightly confused, he lay there, thinking, _Not entirely out of the realm of possibility but definitely not what I was expecting._

Of course he had seen Jack take off out into the corridor of the temple once the verdict had been to wait out the storm for the night.  He hadn’t even taken any food.  The Colonel had stormed off with that look in his eyes that always spelled trouble.  Daniel had let him go, thinking that he just needed to blow off some of the steam he’d been holding in all day.  He could allow him that time.  It wasn’t until everyone else had given in to slumber and Jack still hadn’t returned that his mind had begun to wonder just what the Colonel was planning on doing.  Surely, he didn’t need so much space that he would insist on sleeping in the corridor.  It was dangerous and colder than the interior chamber.  It was then that he had decided he should apologize and clear the stifled air between them.  He’d been the one to make a mess of things in the first place. 

So he’d gone in search of the Colonel.  His mind had been thrown into a tizzy when he came into the corridor and couldn’t find the soldier anywhere in sight.  He was beginning to think that he had driven the other man out into the storm when Jack had appeared suddenly from behind one of the columns.  He’d jumped about three feet in the air and then lost the flash light.  It was all downhill from there.  And now here he was, reeling from Jack’s impressive right hook and accepting that he had fully deserved it.

The stern face of the Colonel suddenly loomed in front of his slightly blurred vision, not far from his own face, as he felt Jack’s knees straddling his torso.  The man was irate and Daniel didn’t blame him.  The soldier pointed a finger at his face and then slammed it repeatedly against the brunette’s chest, as he threateningly spat, “Don’t you dare apologize for that!  Don’t piss on me like that, Daniel!  If I can’t have you, then you can damn well at least let me have the fact that you wanted me!”

The archeologist was stunned.  Not from the punch but from the demand from his former lover.

Daniel lay there, still, lost in his own contemplation—forgetting for that brief moment that Jack was even there and of the source of the pain radiating throughout the left side of his face.  He closed his eyes.  He breathed.  He thought about Sha’uir and he thought about his daughter.  He thought about Jack and the SGC and their many missions.  He thought about himself.  What did he want? 

His brain stopped on this one point, as though his internal processes had transformed into a microscope, blowing up this one small part of his being.  What did he want?  At this particular moment in time—Jack.  The man that had so abruptly been reinserted into his life.

“I want you…” he whispered.  He had barely heard his own words for the thundering that beat between his temples and the roar of the wind outside the open doorway of the temple.

“Wha-?”

Daniel cut off what the other man was going to say.  “I want you.  Now.” He reaffirmed with blunt laconic finality, as his hands flew out, snatching at the collar of the soldier’s tee.  He reefed the man forward, meeting his head half way and sealing his eager unthinking lips over the Colonel’s surprise-gaped mouth.  The kiss was short, almost rejected.  The soldier had started to relent and then perhaps had come to his senses, separating the two of them with a strong forearm against the archeologist’s chest.

Daniel’s back smacked back down against the cold sandy stones of the corridor’s floor, the forearm still rigidly braced in place to keep him there, although the separation between them was still small.  He could see the narrowed eyes of the Colonel darting about his face, assessing and studying.  He could see the confusion his sudden act had caused the other man, over shadowing the lust that lingered there.  He wanted to subvert any misunderstanding—his feelings were simple and he was acting upon them despite the inhibitions that pestered his conscience.  He was running now on pure selfishness and desire.  His wants and his needs.

The linguist wet his lips with a quick dart of his tongue and Jack shushed him before he could even start, with a sharply snapped, “Aaaght—don’t say anything…just wait.”  His scolding trailed off and the soldier swallowed.  Daniel could just barely see him through the darkness of the blackened corridor, but he could feel him—he could feel the press of the other man’s knees on either side of hips, the heat of his body suspended above his own, and the caress of the breaths that were coming out of the man a little faster than what he knew was normal respiration.  Jack’s thin lips were pressed into a hard thin line, the only movement in his face that of his eyes, which finally came to settle on his own—their gaze locked.

The linguist’s breath caught at the sudden intimacy shared in that contact.  The other’s sable eyes were hard and steadfast, deceptively calculating, and beneath their scrutiny he felt his resolve to act purely on emotion fading, sending his mind into a flurry of unrestrained self-defeat.  He was quickly losing his nerve, excuses for why Jack was hesitating cropping up out of thin air in the silence— _Jack’s changed his mind, he’s upset and hurt, I’ve been unreceptive of his feelings and I’m an idiot for not having noticed…and…and_

“Ah, screw it!” Jack suddenly said, with a curse, before his head dipped forward and his mouth over took Daniel’s—bringing an abrupt end to the archeologist’s fear and replacing it with an intense desire that lit his senses like a shot of straight adrenalin.  As the soldier’s legs relaxed and his torso crushed down against his, the archeologist freed his arm to envelop the body atop him.  The silver stubble on the other man’s strong chin grated against his own skin, tickling his cheeks and upper lip as their mouth’s fought for dominance.  The linguist’s long fingers skimmed the length of the Colonel’s spine, then back up to the breadth of his muscled shoulders, wanting to touch every inch of the man. 

Jack’s hands roughly raked through his long hair, pulling it back from his face and forehead.  His knuckles tangled his hair as they came into fists tight against his skull, pulling back to tilt his chin forward and expose the length of his neck to the grate of his dusting of stubble and the soft caress of tongue and lips.  Kisses were planted against the curve of his jaw bone, the hollow just under his chin, and then trailed down to the protuberance of his adam’s apple.  Here the lips parted and he could feel the heated flick of the Colonel’s tongue, circling and suckling, before descending to his collar bone.  When the man’s mouth met the collar of the black tee, Daniel suddenly felt the cold shock of fingers that gripped the hem of the shirt.  He moved with the upward jerk of the tee, lifting his torso and allowing Jack to rip the shirt up and over his head in one smooth motion. 

The archeologist took advantage of the sudden shift of position.  With a lightening quick movement he pushed the Colonel back onto his posterior.  He brought his legs in and came to his knees, using his height over the other man in this position to pull the shirt off of Jack.  With forethought as to their environment he tossed in under the other man as his hands pushed down against his chest, demanding that he lay back onto the stone floor.  Jack stole quick eager kisses before accepting the direction, and with his midsection exposed it was Daniel’s turn.  His mouth worked with a zealous passion, moving in intent trails over every rounded abdominal, around the dip of his belly button, and the short distance from there to the buckle of the man’s pants.

Daniel made quick work of opening the belt and pants, helped along by the fact that the button hadn’t been closed and the fact that the hard length or erection inside was pressing to be released.  His deft fingers pushed aside the opened fabric of the crotch, to pull down the elastic of boxer brief’s, and raise the cock to his opened mouth.  His tongue lapped at the swelled head, wetting the soft heated skin, before he took a good portion of its length between his lips.  Jack gasped and moaned so emphatically that the desire-filled sound rumbled throughout the frame of his torso.  Daniel pulled back, flicking his tongue up the ridge on the underside of the man’s hard cock as he did so, feeling Jack’s hands in his hair once more as he plunged the tip deeper into his mouth.  The Colonel’s hips gave a modest thrust upwards, moving his cock against the motion of his head, as Daniel set a moderate pace and pattern.  He worked the base of the shaft with his strong grip, pulling his hands up and down its length when his lips pulled back.  Jack moaned and squirmed with desire beneath his lover’s ministrations, his fingers pulling the hair back from Daniel’s face, holding it in a fist at the back of the archeologist’s head so that he could watch the other man at work. 

Daniel felt his own erection straining at the fly of his BDU’s, as he felt his lover’s body tense with the imminent climax.  He meant to pull off but suddenly Jack’s finger’s loosed his hair and the Colonel’s strong hands pushed his head back down, as he ejaculated with a satisfyingly rich moan of pleasure.  Daniel accepted the demanded need, waiting for the shivers and muscle twitches of Jack’s orgasm to fade away, before he finally pulled back and off.  Jack’s fingers were insistent, quick to grip the sides of his face earnestly, as soon as the tip of his cock had slipped from between his lips, and the archeologist was hauled forward.  He collapsed on top of the other with the forced awkward movement and his lips crashed against the Colonel’s in a passionate kiss. 

Jack’s tongue demanded entry and Daniel parted his wet lips to allow him in.  Daniel gave in to the other’s demand for dominance and with their tongue’s still intertwined the Colonel’s hands grappled his body and flipped him onto his back.  Then he was straddled and commanding fingers worked open his own pants.  Daniel hadn’t any underwear to speak of now and the Colonel seemed to appreciate that he was ‘commando’. 

Cold digits encircled the girth of his cock, massaging and rubbing, before he felt the soft press of lips against the tip, trailing down the length of his shaft.  Kisses trailed back to the tip and then just as the mouth parted to take him inside, there was the distinctive sound of footsteps.  His heart skipped a beat and then those gentle fingers quickly zipped up the fly of his pants.  Then a shirt was tossed at his face.  He snatched it away and bounded to his feet, slipping back into the shadows of the columns that lined the length of the corridor, as he slipped it over his head and down his torso. 

Fully clothed once more he paused, straining to hear any more movement.  He couldn’t hear anything but the wind outside still blowing against the temple.  In the darkness and without his glasses he couldn’t see anything either.  It was unclear where the Colonel had gone or what the soldier intended to do.  Then he heard someone talking, softly.  He could barely make out the words but he could tell that it was the feminine voice of Sam. 

Unsure what to do he opted for staying still.  He couldn’t see anything anyway so moving wasn’t especially his best option at the moment.  Then he heard Jack’s clear response.  He cautioned and informed his subordinate, “Don’t worry, Jackson, just needed to relieve himself.  You might wanna’ hang back until he’s done.”

It was a fair cover.  Seeing they had been trapped inside the temple and there were no bathroom facilities they had set up an impromptu chamber pot to suit the need. 

“Oh, of course,” he heard Sam say, awkwardly, “I just, well, I was a little alarmed when…”

“Forget about it, Captain,” Jack passed off her embarrassment lightly, instructing, “go back and get some rest.  Unless of course you need to…?”

“Oh, no, I’m good.” She replied.  Then he heard footsteps retreating quickly and sighed in relief. 

Remembering his lost spectacles and suddenly fearing for their safety—knowing damn well they weren’t going to be easily replaced—Daniel came around the corner of the column that had hid him and stretched out a hand, demanding, “Jack, stop, don’t move!”

The Colonel did as he was told, with a comical abruptness that left him teetering on one boot.  “What is it, Daniel?”

“My glasses,” he answered, asking, “can you see them?”

There was a pause, as Jack hummed a low, “ugh…”, that trailed on until he shrugged and unhelpfully answered, “No.  You put them down somewhere?”

Daniel swallowed a short retort and managed to only reply, “Well, not exactly…”

“Oh, yeah.  Sorry about that.” Jack answered, in a pinched sounding voice.  Then there was a hopeful sounding, “A-hah!”, and Jack was at his side.  He lifted his hands and Daniel could see that the arms on the frame were still opened.  He allowed Jack to slip them on and was relieved when the nose pads came to rest in place on his bridge and he could see that the lenses had made it through the ordeal unscathed.  Jack smiled and leaned his head in to press his lips against the other man’s, as his hands cupped the sides of his face. 

“There ya’ go, as good as new.” The Colonel said, patting Daniel’s cheek with the palm of one of his large hands.

“Not exactly new but they will do—achoo!” The sneeze had caught both of them off guard.  Jack chuckled and his hands moved to the archeologist’s shoulders, before a safe distance was put between their two bodies—just in time for the Colonel to miss another two sneeze’s.  Daniel apologized and the Colonel just shrugged, casually admitting, “I’ve waited too long, Danny, your allergies are not going to turn me off now.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again, automatically.  The soldier scoffed and then grabbed his face roughly, drawing him in for another quick peck to prove his point.  They lingered in the position, a moment of hesitation, and then Jack pressed his mouth against Daniel’s again, softer and longer than before.  Then his mouth quirked and the soldier asked, with a chuckle, “How long does it take you to pee?”

Daniel laughed and answered truthfully, “I think if it took me this long that I should seek medical attention.”

“Mmm, probably wise.  The tell-tale sign of a penal problem.” Jack teased, letting him go and stepping back a wide breadth. 

“The only penal problem I have is you.”

“Mmm, true.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Daniel mused. 

Seeing Jack tease him while still managing to hold such a sombre expression made the scientist crack a smile.  He had little control over himself left.  His erection still pressed uncomfortably against the fly of his pants and although he felt he had satisfied his lover’s needs, his own were painfully still acute.  Jack must have been able to read the thoughts straight from his eyes alone—the older soldier always had been far more astute than he let on—and his hands took his face again, bringing their mouths together.  The kiss was long, tender, and sensual.  Then the Colonel pushed him from the pillar back into the shadows of the columns and took him. 

The interlude had been brief but overpowering.  Both men let themselves go in the throes of their love making.  Jack had been rough and Daniel slightly unprepared, yet the pain had been worth it.  He had only cried out once and the gentle fingers of his lovers hand kept the other cries at bay, while he thrust into him until his climax.  Then his lover had reciprocated the offer and the archeologist took the Colonel until he too had been satisfied.  They ended the session on the floor tangled in one another’s arms, breath rasping, hair mussed, and bodies slicked with sweat from their efforts. 

Jack moved into a more comfortable position once he was re-clothed, bracing his shoulders against the stone wall and bringing Daniel against his chest.  The scholar laid the back of his head into the familiar hollow of the other man’s shoulder joint and was glad to have his arms wrapped about his own shoulders and chest.  He brought his fingers to the forearm and Jack spread his fingers wide apart, welcoming Daniel to lace his own digits through his.  It was more intimate than he would have thought, having the other man’s grip about his knuckles and his strong arm holding him tight. 

“Damn I missed you.” Jack whispered, planting a soft tender kiss about the curve of his lover’s ear. 

Daniel pursed his mouth and then slid his teeth over his bottom lip, before he finally admitted aloud, “I do love you, Jack.  And for what it is worth, I missed you too.  A lot.  Even though…it may look like I had it all, it just wasn’t the same…not without you.”


	16. Chapter 16

 

Jack awoke to the shifting of his partner in his lap.  Daniel was stretching out his limbs and yawning.  In a slow motion he rocked forward and then got up onto his feet—far more limber after a night of fucking and then sleeping on the floor of a sandy old temple than Jack would be.  The older man knew damn well his old bones weren’t going to let him get up that easily.  He shifted his weight from one buttock to the other, both seemingly asleep, alighting with the annoying tingling sensation that hallmarked that muscle problem.  The Colonel was surprised the two of them had been able to sleep, propped like that up against the stone wall—if you can call that sleeping. 

The soldier yawned long and powerfully, squinting at Daniel’s form before him, highlighted by the pink rays of what he hoped was the sun rising—after the storm.  The archeologist confirmed as much, with a chipper salutation and an extended hand.  Jack took it and with Daniel’s strong heft he was up on his feet, just about every joint in his body popping in unison with the effort.  Although it sounded horrible it felt good.  The soldier stretched his arms, then his shoulders, hips, and knees.  He methodically worked each muscle, slowly but surely ridding his limbs of the sleeps kinks and aches.  When he was almost finished, he finally noticed that he had an audience.  The linguist had stood back and admired the whole routine, with pink cheeks and his teeth gnashed over his bottom lip, a quirk to the corner of his mouth. 

“What?” Jack demanded, daring Daniel to make a ‘senior citizen’ joke.

The archeologist didn’t play dirty.  His shoulders lifted and fell, as his cheeks flushed a darker shade, and he bashfully admitted, “I haven’t seen that in a while.” His smile cracked, from a quirk to a full grin, “Makes me think of home…” His sentence ended abruptly.  Eye contact was broken and his throat was cleared, as he hastily amended, “I mean, it reminds me of earth…and, well… _then_.”

Jack nodded, although his heart ached with the slight movement like it was going to implode.  His lover’s idea of home had changed.  The soldier’s had not.  His home was still more or less exactly the same—minus the company of one archeologist. 

Daniel didn’t linger long on the subject.  In six long quick strides he had cleared the tall opening of the temple and stood assessing the start to their day.  Jack sighed, feeling pensive as he watched his lover’s movements.  He hoped their little tryst wouldn’t turn out to be a one night-er.  Daniel had tried it before, after Jack had finally pushed past all the barriers that shielded the man’s heart and he had throw aside all of his own inhibitions to take the archeologist for the first time.  The man had tried to act as though nothing had happened, ignoring what they had started, what they had shared, for a week or more, as though friendship was all he had wanted and needed.  Jack had to step Daniel through the motions—it was okay to be more than friends, we can be together and work together, we can have a relationship, we can, we can, we can…It had taken a while but the archeologist had warmed to the idea after much reinforcement.  There was no damn way, he would let this be the same thing—then like a thunder bolt Jack was hit with the vision of the man’s daughter—the memory of that impish little girl, with her dark thick curls and those startling cobalt eyes, as she had settled onto his lap the other night in the courtyard, like she owned the spot. 

Daniel wasn’t his for the taking anymore.  He wasn’t a broken man, in need of healing. 

Jack grimaced and shoved his hands into the pockets of his BDU’s, as he kicked the toe of his leather boot against the stone floor—revising his thoughts.  Perhaps it would be best just to focus on the mission _—get your head out of fuck-town and back into focus—_ an airmen was still missing and they still needed to figure out how they were going to get her back alive from Apophis.

“Sir?”

Jack lifted his head, glancing in the direction of his subordinates voice, to see that Carter stood fully geared and ready to move out at the entrance to the large golden room of them temple.  “Yes, Captain?”

She came the distance between them without haste,  as she asked the obvious, “Ready to head back, sir?”

“Yes, Captain,” he nodded, and then tilted his head towards Daniel outside, saying, “as soon as possible.”

The blond nodded in understanding, stepping past him to join the doctor outside on the landing before the stairs.  Jack watched them exchange greetings, the smiles passing easily between them, before they headed down the stairs together.  The Colonel caught one more yawn and then joined them down by the mastadges.

The filthy smelling animals seemed to be no worse for wear, having weathered the storm without incident, and now looked eager to return to the city.  They bobbed their large pale skinned heads up and down, their large dextrous lips forming little ‘o’s as they trumpeted long and low calls into the air that sounded like a strange cross between a moose and elk call, hoarse, sharp, and gargled all together.  Skaara was already outside, at one of the animal’s sides adjusting the leather harness and saddle straps, as he crooned in Abydonian to the beasts in a caring tone. 

Jack scratched his head, wondering if the boy had saw him and the good doctor snuggling in the corridor that morning seeing he was already out tending to their rides, and then realized his ball cap was missing.  He receded back into the temple, gathering his own belongings as well as Daniel’s, only to return to see that the others had mounted and the animals were eager to leave.  He took the temple stairs two at a time, throwing the archeologist his pack, as he zipped up his utility vest and shouldered his P90.  Skaara reached a hand down to help him up onto the back of the massive mastadge.  The wind kicking up just enough to give him a wonderful mouthful of sand-filled manure-infused hair, on his way to kicking a leg over and seating himself in the saddle behind the boy.  Skaara laughed heartily, patting the hulking shoulder of the mastadge, before he heeled the beast hard in the ribs.  It gave a high-pitched gargled whinney—if you could compare these things at all to horses—and took off with such vigor that the soldier had nearly toppled off the ten foot drop to the sand dune below.  His hands had shot out quick enough to grab at the back of the vest the boy wore, managing somehow to keep himself seated, as the animal gave to a wobbling gallop—more likened to a camel than a stallion. 

The ride was silent.  Jack was still weary from lack of sleep and Skaara was uncharacteristically mute.  It took all of his strength to not keep gazing across at Daniel, atop the other beast with Carter, who was animatedly describing her time at the pentagon, the changeover in command from West to Hammond at the SGC, and even the bungalow she owned in the city and the coffee shop she frequented after her jogs.  Daniel’s smile was infectious.  Even across the short distance it was able to command power over Jack’s thoughts.

If the Colonel wasn’t careful he was going to end up with another growing problem that would only make the rest of the journey more uncomfortable, so he turned his head, resolutely deciding he would stare ahead for a while to give his body a break.  The horizon was nothing but a grey-tan, with small humping aberrations made by the rise and fall of the cascading dunes ahead, which met with the brilliant blue of the cloudless sky above.  The line wasn’t harsh, in fact, it was fairly muted by an opaque greyish haze that lingered between the two, like cushioning between sand and sky.  As the mastadge came to the summit of another large dune, that cushion grew violently darker, and there was suddenly the distinct pungency of smoke to the air.

 Jack felt Skaara’s entire frame tense in front of him.  The boy straightened in the saddle, using the stirrups to raise himself up into a standing position that elevated him a foot and half higher than Jack. 

“What is it, Skaara?  Can you see anything?” Daniel’s questions were peppered with concern and tempered by the restraint to stay calm.

“Smoke, Dan’yel.” The boy returned, raising one hand to shield his eyes from the harsh sunlight.  Jack retrieved his binoculars from a flap on his vest and handed them over.  Skaara took the device eagerly and knowing what they were for he raised them to his eyes.  It was a long tense moment.  Then the boy plunked himself back down, tossed Jack the binoculars, and heeled the animal into a hard sprint with a sharply called, “Hyaw!”  Daniel didn’t ask questions, spurring his own mastadge to match the boy’s pace.

As the massive animals raced over the dunes, Jack’s stomach began to sink like a led weight.  The pungency of the smoke grew stronger with each dune the crested and the black clouds soon painted the horizon with an ominous foreboding.  It was a good forty-five minutes before they were outside the city walls…what was left of them anyway.

Nagada was a smoldering ruin.

The high outer walls were blacked and broken, the buildings were toppled and burning, and the air was thick with an acrid black smoke that faintly smelled of burnt flesh.  It was as though a fly over had bombed the shit out of the place.  Jack had seen this kind of destruction before, in his Black-Op days.  It was never good.

Skaara’s body slumped forward in the saddle, crumbling under the weight of the sudden realization that Nagada had been attacked while they had been trapped in the temple by the sand storm.  Jack made a quick glance over at the archeologist.  Even across the difference the soldier could see the terrified shock in the whites of the other man’s eyes.  His face had blanched.  His knuckles were white about the leather reins, as he wrung them in his grip.  Carter brought a gentle hand to his shoulder to comfort him, in any way that she could offer.

“No,” he seen Daniel’s lips mouth the word, but had not heard it.  Then he let out a loud cry and spurred the mastadge hard in the ribs with his heels.  The beast took off at a remarkable pace and Jack watched it race down the slope of the dune, kicking up a cloud of dust and sand in its wake. 

Skaara was still before him.  The boy did not follow his brother in law, although the large head of the mastadge rocked up and down, grunting to go.  Jack raked his teeth over his bottom lip.  There was little that could be done.  The city was destroyed and it didn’t look like they would find any survivors.  The intention had been annihilation.


	17. Chapter 17

“Sha’uir!  Cindel!” Daniel’s voice cried out, between hacking coughs that winded him. 

“Dr. Jackson, stop!  It’s too dangerous!”

The archeologist had heard the voice but he could no longer see the Captain.  He had blithely forged on, inward through the fallen burning debris and the thick black acrid smoke.  He was sweating from the heat all around him, choking on the smoke, and gasping for what little oxygen remained.  He wasn’t sure where he was.  He had once boasted to Skaara that he had come to know the city as well as the boy, like the back of his hand—all that was useless now.  He was lost within a tangle of charred wood, crumbling sandstone and mud, tripping over fallen ladders, broken pottery, crumbled mortar, and the bodies of the dead. 

Bodies were everywhere.  People who had tried to flee, to escape what had assaulted the city, and failed.  Even with the fabric of his cotton tee balled up around his nose and mouth he could taste death—feel it permeating him as though his body could absorb it.  He had already wretched.  There hadn’t been much to exit for he had yet to eat that morning.  The incident hadn’t even slowed him down or cautioned his intent.  He needed to see the house.  Needed to be there.  No matter what was left or what he found.

Sam had been pleading with him to stop since he had sprung off of the mastadge’s back and plowed into the curtain of smoke that plumed up from the wound in the wall that he had entered through.  If she had been familiar with the animals in the least he knew she would have restrained him, but as it was she struggled to dismount after him, and now endeavored to catch him up.  He wouldn’t stop.  Not til…

The toe of the archeologist’s boot caught and he was unable to catch himself from pitching onto the ground in front of himself.  His hands hit hard paving stones and his face hit something else—softer but unmoving.  As he scrambled to right himself, hacking on smoke, he readjusted his glasses to find that he had tripped over a man and landed on a child.  The man’s arms were wound about the chest of the boy, a hand still slumped over the small head.  Both were dead.  He didn’t look long enough to assess exactly why or how.  He mechanically pushed himself to his feet and forced himself on, encouraged by the flagstones that had scrapped the heels of his hands raw. 

Kasuf’s courtyard was flagstone.  The house was near.

The courtyard had been round welcoming place, with a pit near the middle for a fire that had cooked many meals and hosted many friends.  Now it was a maze of smoking refuse, completely unrecognizable, and cloaked in a thick shroud of black haze.  Another body was slumped against what use to be the main entrance way to the great man’s home.  The doorway was now cracked and tumbling.  The figure was tossed haphazardly backward through a gaping hole that had been blasted through the wall by the doorway, man, wood, and stone were all smeared with soot and ash.  Yet the red robes were unmistakable. 

Daniel cried out his good father’s name as he sprung closer, his hands finding the collar of the robes to pull the man back through the opening.  The body slumped back to the ground, legs curling at an awkward angle beneath the weight of the lifeless torso.  It was then that Daniel realized the head was missing.  He was shocked backward into a flail of limbs by the horrifying sight of the neatly cauterized stump of a neck left between the shoulders of the man he had come to know as ‘father’.  He stared at it, frozen by the pain that welled within his chest.  Then the smoke had him coughing, breaking the trance, and he pushed himself to his feet.  In one smooth motion he stepped over the body and through the broken doorway, into the man’s house.

The archeologist hunkered down low to the floor, moving quickly over debris and refuse, to the stairs that led to his own dwelling above.  Kasuf’s belongings and furniture made a tangled web that tripped him and slowed his progress.  The great low table that they had all dined at the morning before was in pieces, that beautiful woven matt that Kasuf had prized was burned to cinders, and the childhood pot’s and goblets that his children had made for him were broken on the floor.  Daniel moved past all of these, trying not to let their significance register in his pain-numbed brained, forcing himself to focus instead on breathing, moving, searching.

The stairs were largely intact and the man took the steps by two’s, propelling himself from the scattered lives destroyed on the first floor to what he had known as his home for the past six years.  The space had always been modest.  A simple floor plan, made up of two small rooms only big enough for the sleeping pallets that occupied them and then a small common area where they had shared times with guests and family.  The only kitchen to speak of was downstairs, as the house was shared with Kasuf and Skaara.  The next floor was where his brother had slept.  As Daniel came up the stairs he came into the living area and he could see out across the expanse of the ruined city.  The hole blown into the room was massive, had taken out half of one wall and three-quarters of the other.  He was surprised that the next floor had not collapsed yet and then he heard the creaking and snapping of the mortar and wood.

  He dashed into the small hallway that was between the two bedrooms.  The curtains that had hung in the doorways were burned, nearly half gone, and so he ducked beneath the one before his own to come into the room.  He tripped on the journals that were scattered and burnt on the floor, falling onto the empty bed.  The room was largely intact, but was filled with smoke that came in through the window and up from the burning debris that littered the streets below.  He felt a spasm rock his lungs, before he burst into another guttural coughing fit, which left him curled and winded on the pallet.  His lungs burned and his hair was slicked to his forehead and neck from the heat of the fires that burned all around the house.  He was gasping for oxygen, his chest heaving with the effort to draw in clean air.  Sha’uir wasn’t here.

A part of him was glad.  Another was sad.  His heart ached and his mind cursed the emptiness of the room.

With effort he forced himself upright and his hand slipped under his wife’s pillow, his fingers circling around the small gold eye of Ra that Catherine had given him.  The precious metal and the long string of glass beads was still cold to the touch, despite the chaos that reigned around it.  He pulled the necklace out and held it in his hand.  The pad of his middle fingers traced the fine details of the eye, engraved into the gold.  Sha’uir had taken this from him, treasured it as a part of him, claiming it was the reason he had been brought to her—the reason he had come to save her and her people from the false god, Ra. 

Many others in the city had shunned the eye after Ra had been defeated, wanting all symbols of their generations of slavery abolished, along with the Goa’uld that had mercilessly reigned over them.  It had not been hard to sympathize with their desires and Daniel had obligingly shed the trinket to appease them and commemorate their survival.  Sha’uir had not wanted to see the trinket cursed and she had kept the eye ever since.  If he hadn’t been wearing the eye she would not have been given to him, they would not have had the chance to find the catacombs where the cartouche was hidden, he would not have broken the language barrier between them, Ra would not have been destroyed, and he would not have gotten Jack and his men back home to earth. 

Daniel couldn’t bring himself to wear the necklace about his neck, nor could he leave it behind.  He deposited the trinket into his pocket and stepped out of the room. 

His daughter’s room lay before him.  The curtain was completely missing, burned up, and he could see into the empty room beyond without entering.  The room was unrecognizable.  Her small pallet, with the soft orange woven blanket her mother had made before she was born was covered in a thick layer of broken mortar, crumbled stone, ash, and dirt.  The opposite wall was marred by an inch wide crack that spread up to the ceiling like a black bolt of lightning, where it widen and deepened into wide gash.  Part of the ceiling had gave way and around the wooden beams Daniel could see the blackness of the sky above.  There was no sign of his daughter.

Sam was there as he left the house.  Her blue eyes had been trained on the body of his good father, until his footsteps had drawn her attention.  Her face was grim, smudged with ash and dirt, mingled with perspiration from the thick heat of the fires that burned around them.  Her eyes were wide with concern, her pretty pink mouth drawn into an uncharacteristic thin line, her entire form sagging with her palpable empathy.  As he came towards her she moved to say something and Daniel shook his head, silencing her.  The answer was clear.

Together they made their way from the burning city.  They checked the bodies as they went, looking for survivors and finding none.  If the explosions hadn’t killed them the smoke had, choking the life out of them as they struggled to escape.  Jack and Skaara were waiting for them with the mastadges and when the scholar’s eyes met his brother in laws his nerve broke.  Tears that he didn’t realize he had been holding back fell indiscriminately from his eyes, as sobs rocked his body, and the two men collapsed together to their knees in the sand. 

Skaara cried too, as he began to sing in a tremulous voice.  Daniel recognized the Abydonian lullaby.  Sha’uir’s melodious voice rang in his mind along with the soft giggles of his daughter, as he envisioned tucking the little girl into bed and kissing her goodnight.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry...short chapters. Longer ones to come, I promise.


	18. Chapter 18

The Colonel had never been known for his brainy ideas but nonetheless he had wracked his brain to try and come up with some kind of an explanation for who had destroyed the city and why.  Nagada had obviously been bombed, the destruction was too extensive and complete to have been a ground force attack.  The type of weapon used was debatable.  Jack use to pride himself of his ability to assess an explosion and determine the strength, if not its identity—but that had been years ago with earthly weaponry.  He was now a galaxy away from the military powers and equipment of Earth and the city of Nagada could have been bombed by a number of different races, for a plethora of reasons. 

The obvious suspect was Apophis.  They had expected the snake to rear his ugly head at some point regardless, even though they had assumed the bastard would come through the stargate with a small entourage of Jaffa like he had before—like he had on Earth.  This kind of damaged would have required a mothership and a slew of gliders.  Not impossible but fairly implausible based on their prior knowledge of the Goa’uld.   What would the snake have wanted with Abydos in the first place and why kill potential slaves?  It just didn’t seem to add up.  If there was a mothership here, it would no doubt be in orbit or parked pristinely on Ra’s massive pyramid.  Either way he wasn’t about to traipse into range to find out. 

Who else then if not Apophis?  Not many other system lords would have had the power if the hierarchy had gone anything like it had before, especially without any prior Earth involvement—i.e. killing the bastards. 

In the end, the soldier accomplished little, save the headache that deep thinking tended to bring on.

Their radio calls to Kawalsky and Ferreti had gone unanswered.  Daniel was dealing with accepting the death of his family, something Jack wasn’t sure he could help the man deal with, and Skaara was clammed up tighter than the Hoover Dam.  Carter had suggested they move to the stargate, as it was their only way home.  It sounded like a trap, but what choice did they have?

With the aid of the smelly beasts the trip was quick, if nothing else.  The animals trumpeted loud long mournful laments as they went, as though they understood the death and destruction that had stood before them earlier.  A far cry from stealth.  As the mines came into view the Colonel had been forced to leave Skaara and Daniel with the loud mastadges with a radio, and he took the Captain to survey the mine for threats.  They had walked for a mile or so, climbing over two massive dunes with some trouble.  At the crest of the second they had a good view down into the open pit of the mines.  With the aid of the binoculars he was able to see with some degree of accuracy that the mines seemed to be unoccupied.  There was no sign of the Goa’uld or anyone else.  He radioed the boy to proceed with caution and then the two of them moved into the mine itself. 

Taking point, with Carter covering his six, they moved from the outskirts of the mine’s rocky edge to the massive tunnel opening that housed the stargate.  There was still no sign of current or recent occupation.  The interior of the tunnel proved to be empty as well.  The work bench was undisturbed.  If the Goa’uld had been here they had been awfully polite and courteous.  Not exactly their M.O. 

“I don’t think whatever attacked the city came through the stargate, sir.” The Captain confirmed his own suspicions.  “But then…where…?”

“Oh, a number of places, Captain.” He answered, with a long sigh.  He tugged on the bill of his cap, chewing the inside of his mouth, as he considered how many terrible possibilities there were. 

Carter cleared her throat and stated the other obvious fact.  “Kawlasky and Ferreti aren’t here either.”

“Yup.” Jack answered, succinctly, issuing a long aggravated groan that rumbled out of his frame with foreboding.  Was there much use in hoping that his subordinates—his friends—were still alive?

He watched her lift the radio in the pocket of her vest to her mouth, her radio calls short and efficient.  There was no answer once again.  The trained soldier in him squashed the swelling dread that was ballooning upwards from the pit of his stomach, taking over the suffocating feelings with his need to get those still with him somewhere safe.  The Captain kept trying, calling every five minutes or so.

The Colonel figured their next course of action would be to split and head home.  There was nothing that they could do here and they were terribly unprepared to defend the stargate if it came to that.  He was just thankful that it was unguarded in the first place, even if it did seem too easy.  As Carter made her calls to the missing soldiers, Jack surveyed the looming ring and its DHD.  It was a friggin’ pandora’s box.  No matter how they tried, they could not predict the future and they could not prevent the harm that would befall the ones they knew after stepping through that damned thing.  Time had been reversed but it was taking its own path forward, despite what they had experienced before.  Their lives, the lives of their friends and loved ones, and even the fate of the Earth were no safer than they had ever been.

Daniel’s misery had been hard for Jack to see.  The tears the man had openly shed before all of them had opened old wounds that the soldier had thought had been long since healed.  Daniel had not said much about what he had found in the city, but it wasn’t hard to assess that the man had lost everything.  His home, his wife—for the second damned time—and now a child.  It cruelly reminded the Colonel of the pain of his own son’s death still just as real, even though buried, as it had been then.  It had been a dark time that had destroyed him, Sara, and their marriage—what he had thought had defined him at the time.  He had come to terms with it all, seen reason—Daniel’s reason—and was the man and soldier he was today because of it.  He was filled with dread in knowing that he was sadly ill-equipped to return the favor now that the man he had come to consider a friend and a lover was in the same predicament.

A whirl of motion to his right brought him to attention, jump starting him into action like a booster cable turning over a stalled engine, and suddenly the P90 was in his hands trained on a dark corner of the cave that the cone of light shining from the barrel of Carter’s gun had indicated.  He couldn’t see anything in the darkness, even with the harsh white illumination of the light, and his hearing strained to detect anything beyond the faint drip of water in the distance, the chirp of some damned insect, and the thrumming of his own blood rushing between his temples, as his adrenalin spiked.  Carter was inching forward after signing to him that she had seen movement.  He stayed in position to cover her.  Perhaps the cave had been a trap—at least Daniel and Skaara had yet to appear.

The Captain took careful steps, moving painfully slow for the Colonel’s nerves that were electrifyingly on edge.  She was moving towards a point that was behind the stargate, where the roof of the cave curved down sharply almost to the floor.  Now that he studied the formation of the rock he noticed that the wall came down and veered back into itself, creating a smaller low impression that cut back into the darkness.  The blackness made it impossible to see how far it went or what could be inside.  The hole was long and probably only three feet from the floor, the Captain had to kneel down to shine the light on the barrel into the crevice. 

There came a long wheezing hiss from within.  The hairs on the back of the Colonel’s neck rose.  He had heard such sounds before and death was usually not far behind.  Carter quickly signaled him to her side.  His nerves relaxed a touch as he cleared the distance in three wide strides.  He lowered the P90 as he squatted down onto his haunches, still having to tilt his head lower to peer below the rocky ledge that sank back into the wall so sharply.  Illuminated in the harsh white light was the figure of a boy, curled into the familiar wounded animal curve of the fetal position, protecting his vulnerable belly.  The youth was for damn sure no older than fifteen, and even covered in the leather jerkin and pants of the Nagada people Jack could see that his long limbs were wiry with muscle but had not yet filled out with age.  The face was not visible, tucked downwards towards the chest and half covered by a protective forearm. 

“He’s injured, sir,” Carter whispered, as she lowered to her knees on the stone floor and slipped the safety switch on her P90.  Tucking the weapon around behind her she leant forward into the deep depression, reaching a cautious hand out towards the boy, as she spoke gentle reassurances. 

Jack let her do her thing, still too on edge about everything to not take point.  He turned and came to his feet, his hands instinctually on the hilt of the weapon, his index finger resting beside the trigger.  He scanned the dark interior of the cave.  Nothing had changed.

“Colonel,” the Captain’s voice was thick with a new tone, masked suddenly by her training to keep it firm and determined despite what injuries she must have found on the child.  He turned back just enough to address her from over his shoulder and she continued, informing him of what he had already suspected.  “The boy has a deep laceration and burns to his left shoulder and chest.  I need more light to clean and dress the wound…but, sir, he needs medical attention.”

“We are heading home as soon as Daniel and Skaara get here.” Jack announced, as he removed his own pack and began to unzip it.

As his hands dug for the glow rods inside, he heard her draw a long resigned breath, as she unpacked the medical kit from her own supply pack.  His teeth ground together and it was then that he realized his jaw had been tensed shut.  He made a point of relaxing the muscles, mentally trying to calm the edge that lingered on his nerves like ice weighing on a power line, threatening to snap the wire.  He had been through worse, many, many times he reminded himself.  It didn’t seem to make a difference.  There was something about knowing hundreds of human lives had just been ended, abruptly, painfully, fearfully, and without reason, that no training or experience could prepare a person for.  The Colonel shook off the overwhelming feelings and emotions.  His subordinate had found the reserve to steel herself to the task at hand and he had to do the same. 

The man cracked the two rods one after another, holding them out over the body of the boy to what he thought was the best degree of lighting for dressing the wound.  The light revealed the scale of the wound and he grimaced at the sight of charred flesh, ripped and jagged from bits of deeply imbedded shrapnel, dry, cracked, and oozing blood and creamy-yellow puss.  The boy had not remained conscious for long.  His head lay limp now in the Captain’s lap—no doubt had passed out when she had moved him out from under the rock shelf.  His face was covered in smudged ash, dust, and dirt that marred the smoothness of his youthful features, dried in rings about the corners of his mouth, nostrils, and eyes.  His clothes were in worse shape.  The leather skin jerkin was burned, blackened, and ripped, opening to reveal what remained of his arm and shoulder.  Carter didn’t hold back.  With quick sure handed movements she went about her task with emotionless precision.  She worked to get the jerkin off, cutting it away with her knife and then beginning to gingerly pull it back.  The leather made a sickening syrupy sound as it was peeled away from the half dried blood, only to show the dark purple stain of bruising down the length of the boy’s thin chest and stomach.  Jack was no medic, but he knew this kind of thing wasn’t good.

“Infection has already set in.” her voice remained cold and assessing—emotionless.  “May have some internal bleeding.”

Jack didn’t respond.  There wasn’t much to say.  His subordinate continued her task with deft fingers and well trained hands.  She cleaned the wound as best she could, disinfecting and picking out stone, splinters, and dirt.  They both took solace, he thought, in the fact that the kid was unconscious as they did it.  Then she dressed the area as best she could with what she had to work with in the small medical kit.  Then they made the youth comfortable and he left Carter there, escaping for some fresh air.  As he came out of the damp tunnel and into the dry hot sun of late afternoon, beating down onto the rock of the mine, he felt like he had come out of a fridge and into an oven.  It didn’t make him feel any better.  His nerves were still electrified and he felt like he’d ate a bowling ball. 

The Colonel pushed the sunglasses that hung around his neck on a cord up the bridge of his nose, allowing the polarized lenses to settle into place and relieve at least the blinding glare of the sun’s light.  He eyes immediately surveyed their perimeter.  The mastadges were still nowhere to be seen, so he moved to grab his radio—belatedly remembering the two men had it.  Planting his hands on his hips, he leaned back, stretching the cramped and tired muscles of his thighs and calves.  Then he began to methodically stretch out everything else—attempting to cover the unease that was growing in his stomach as he waited for the black humped forms of the stinking beasts to come into view on the sand dune before him to the south-east. 

His mind was working overtime, even as he tried to distract himself from thinking.  Unanswered questions, theories, and presumptions mingled into a hazy jumbled mess, swirling like those damned muddled mojitos Sara use to like to throw back on a lazy Sunday evening to themselves.  Why anyone would want to waste the time muddling something when you could just crack a satisfying brew always had bewildered him.  The cloudy mix had always loosened her tongue and given the blond an ill-temper that he loved to jeer.  His brain felt just like those mint leaves at the bottom of the glass, being beaten and ground before drowned in alcohol.  He felt a little tipsy now himself, as the questions seemed to drain away to one lingering, pestering, persistent surmise: they had accomplished nothing. 

If anything, they had made things worse.  Nagada had been wasted.  Exterminated.  All those people…gone.  Dead.  It was like a punch to the gut and then a knock-out right hook square on the money that threatened to crush his lungs and double him over.  They had done this.  They had reverted time—no—he had reverted time.  Daniel had had the forethought to consider the repercussions of using that fucking alien time-toy and he had thrown all that perceived danger out the window for the chance that the damn thing might keep the Vashen from invading Earth and harvesting, no matter what the cost.  He had then and there sentenced the Abydonians to death—was Nagada the price he had paid to save Earth?  Had he the right to exchange the annihilation of one people for another?  They had no proof that they had accomplished anything.  All this senseless loss may only be the beginning. 

“O’Niell!”  His name had been screeched in an enthusiastic trill seconds before he felt something slam into him from behind at mock speed.  Twisting he spied a tuft of dark frizzy black curls pressing into the backside of his hip, as small dirty arms encircled his thigh like a tunicate.  The child quivered against him as his mind scrambled to process and catch up.  Her exuberant squeals turned to hitched sobs and suddenly the small girl melted, wailing against his leg, the tears she shed soaking into the fabric of his BDU’s. 

Jack didn’t say anything.  With strong arms he lent forward and took the girl under the arms.  He lifted her into his embrace and her desperate hands clung to him, squeezing him so tightly around the neck that the crown of her dark head applied considerable pressure to his windpipe.  She was lighter than he had anticipated, thin and tiny, almost like a doll.  Her entire frame shook with her choked weeping and after his free hand assured she was healthy with a quick assessing pat-down, he rubbed his palm in a soothing circular motion across her back—as Sara used to do with Charlie.  He held the child like that for a long time, not uttering a sound, allowing her to cry as she liked. 

When her sobs finally slowed, she began to ramble off names, stuttered and half-incoherent due to her labored breaths.  “Ma-mama, d-daddy!  Mama, d-daddy!” became the final lament and the Colonel clued in suddenly.

“Hey, shhhhhhh, Cindle….it’s okay now.  You’re not alone.” He whispered in a soft voice, making her sit back in his arms so that he could gently rub the wet tears from under her large red eyes.  “Daddy will be here soon.  Okay?  Stop crying, it’s going to be alright.”                            

The girl shook her head vehemently, her bottom lip jutting out and her dark brows knitting over those harsh cobalt eyes.  “They’re dead!  Everyone’s dead!” she screamed at him angrily, “They killed them all!”  Her hysterical and terrified screams slipped back into her wailing sobs and he gave up the effort, allowing her to crumple back down against his shoulder to cry.  He rocked her in his arms and smoothed down her curls.  The soldier didn’t know what else to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> give me a YEAH comment if you like mojito's!


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 <3 <3 Thanks for reading! <3 <3 <3

Jack’s arm was beginning to tingle as it went numb.  The girl was still sobbing against the nape of his neck—he could feel the wetness of her tears on his skin.  His torso swayed slowly, bouncing ever so slightly, to soothingly rock the girl that so desperately clung to him.  He patted her back, rubbed her shoulders, and smoothed the curls of her high pony-tail, as his eyes darted anxiously to the sand dune to the south-east.  Where the hell was Daniel?!

The soldier felt awkward and at a loss to deal with the misery that the poor girl was in.  He hadn’t held a crying child for a very, very, long time.  He just wished he could make her stop crying.  Her sobs were wearing on his heartstrings and his soldier-trained resolve that helped him hold it together.  He tried speaking to her soothingly, calling her name softly, trying to draw her into talking again, but the girl was uncharacteristically silent.  The more he tried to draw her out the harder she buried her small face into her arms and against his throat. 

The Colonel let a heavy breath go and was suddenly startled by a gentle tap to his shoulder.  He whirled only to be relieved by his subordinate’s smiling face.  Her cheeks were streaked with ash and there was a couple blotches of dark dried blood on her jawline, but her pretty mouth was an uncontrolled grin of delight.  She mouthed the words, “Thank God…” and Jack nodded his agreement.  The blond lifted her hands, offering to relieve him for a while and with his arm holding the girl now on pins and needles, completely numb, he shifted the girl’s weight to make the transfer. 

Little hands cemented in place, as though the darn kid had been playing with crazy-glue, and she stubbornly screamed bloody-blue murder right in his ear, making his ear drums vibrate, when he attempted to peel her off.  They failed miserably.  The Colonel sighed heavily and grimaced, as the girl’s surprisingly strong grip on him tightened—daring him to try it again.  The soldier settled for using the other arm to support her, transferring the bulk of her weight closer to his hip.  Sam snorted back a snicker and gave him a defeated shrug of her shoulders that sorely lacked conviction.  She reached forward and rubbed the girls back, and reassuring said, “It’ll be okay, now, Cindel.  The Colonel will keep you safe.”  Jack sent her a patronizing smirk of sarcastic thanks, as she suddenly raised an arm to point out that the mastdages were finally approaching. 

Jack turned to see that he had missed the animals decent down the sand dunes altogether.  The stinky beasts were being led up the crest of the rocky mine floor, no more than 500 yards away.  They were quiet now.  Skaara must have worked his leader-of-foul-smelling-animals shepherd-magic.  Sam gave them a wave of greeting and suddenly the long legged shaggy things broke into a rocking gallop towards them. 

The girl’s small body tensed in his arms and a wide blue eye peaked out from over top of a protective arm.  She could hear the thundering of the approaching hoof-beats.  He smiled, leaning forward to whisper into her ear, “See?  Didn’t I tell ya that your dad would be here soon?”

In a flash her head came bolt upright and her spine and legs straightened.  Her eyes caught a glimpse of the mastadges nearly on them now and she let out a squeal so enthusiastic and high-pitched that he shuddered and grinned at the same time.  The small form wriggled worse than a pirch on his hook and he let her drop to the ground.  The moment her sandaled feet hit the stones below she was off, running full tilt for the charging animals.  Both mastdages were reined to a shuddering stop and Jack watched Daniel leap down from the saddle with incredible agility he didn’t really remember the young man possessing.  The man’s little black-haired cutey flew into his out stretched arms and he crushed her against his chest.  They could hear him saying her name, exuberantly chanting it over and over, until his voice cracked and his knees buckled.  He crumpled to the rocky ground with her still in his arms and squealing, “Daddy, daddy, daddy!” with delight, cracked by her own joyful sobs.

Skaara cried out his niece’s name as he joined the two of them, laughing and wrapping his arms around what remained of his family.  It was an amazing sight to behold.  A reunion that made both soldiers’ hearts swell.  He noticed Carter lift a finger to wipe away the collecting moisture from under her darkly tinted lashes and he could hear the Captain working to stifle a sniffle.  Then Jack saw something he didn’t expect.  When he looked back at the rejoicing trio of survivors he saw Daniel’s face lift, new tears tracked trails down the man’s ash blackened cheeks, above a grateful smile that seemed to thank the Colonel personally. 

Jack turned away from the heartbreakingly miraculous scene, back to the tunnel opening with the stargate beyond, and his duty that lied ahead of them.  His subordinate followed suit, boots padding after him, immediately inquiring for orders, for the plan, with a quick, “Colonel?”

“The kids gonna’ make it?” he asked, marching back into the shadow of the cave’s tunnel.

The blond caught him up, coming up to his side, giving her CO an unsure grimace.  Her lips pursed with the effort to pick and choose an appropriate response, finally admitting, “Perhaps…if we can get him back to Earth he just might.”  She swallowed, wet her lips, and elaborated awkwardly out of what seemed to be her own inability to accept the answer she had given.  “I am not a medic but I am pretty sure that the infection has set in fast and deep.  He has a fever and…well, his best chance is going to be back in the infirmary.  I can’t…I can’t do anymore.”

“He’s good enough to travel?” he raised a silvered brow at her, wanted her clarification.

Carter shrugged and gave a slight shake to her head, stating the obvious.  “He doesn’t really have a choice.”

“Right.” Jack agreed, “Then let’s get our shit together and get the hell out of here.”

He had moved away from her to march back to the DHD and start to dial the damned thing home himself, when her clear voice cut him deep, stopping him instantly.  “What about Kawalsky and Ferreti, Sir?”

Jack cursed a long string of expletives half under his breath, his fingers involuntarily clenching into white knuckled fists at his sides as his molars ground together.  He knew it wasn’t exactly clear cut science or fact, but his gut told him the two airmen were dead.  They had been in the damned city and they all knew what was left of Nagada now.  It was time to make the hard call now.  They would have to leave without them.  “Have they answered the radio calls?” he asked her, not meaning to bark.

She visibly swallowed again and her teeth clicked shut.  Unable to speak the answer aloud the blond head shook, ‘no’, instead. 

“We move out ASAP, Captain.” He ordered.

***

“Okay, Cindel, can you say awwww?”

Jack felt like shit.  He was exhausted.  Completely drained of all his normal vigor and energy.  The rest of the day had been a shit storm of medical attention, answering questions, and a smothering attention to detail that the military irritatingly always seemed to insist upon.  He yawned long and wearily, lifting his boot to brace it against the seat of a plastic chair by the foot of the flannel blanketed infirmary bed he sat on.  Patience and waiting had always been his downfall—something Sara never failed to point out to him.  His thumbs spun around open another in the cup of his clasped hands on his lap, as he lazily watched Dr. Fraiser struggle to work her magic on Daniel’s darling little girl—who proved to be unequivocally immune.

They had come through the stargate, returning to Earth at roughly 1700 hours, with their scraggly entourage, less two airmen.  General Hammond had not been impressed and was even more disturbed after receiving answers for the questions that the short man had fired off at the Colonel the minute his boots had hit the ramp.  They had gotten the injured youth to the infirmary and then Daniel, Cindel, and Skaara had been shuffled off there as well to be poked, prodded, and drained of a few vials of blood, as Jack and Carter were nabbed for a quick ineffectual debriefing that left everyone drained.  They hadn’t accomplished much and that always left the soldier feeling frustrated and useless.  They had gotten the hard questions out of the way and laid down the facts for the General but a proper debriefing would have to wait until morning, after they had a chance to cool their jets and get some rest.  It was already after 1900 hours and they were all exhausted. 

Their only real success was convincing the General to send a probe back to the planet to make observations and collect data from the mouth of the tunnel, in hopes that they might glean some kind of insight into who or what had attacked and the scale of the forces used.  It was also a last-ditch attempt at communicating with Kawalsky and Ferreti, who were for now labeled as missing-in-action.  That thought had left a bitter taste in the soldier’s mouth.  He wasn’t use to accepting leaving men behind.  Hammond had been adamant though; no one was going back to that planet.

After the Captain had been dismissed she had tried to hide her anticipation as she scurried away to begin the tedious work of uploading the new stargate addresses into the SGC’s computer database and starting the calculation to compensate for the celestial shift—it was encouraging to note that she had found something to be excited about with all the chaos and destruction their mission had ended with.  Getting their gate up and running was the first priority. 

Jack even found a moment to argue with the General, attempting to persuade the family-manTexan to allow the newly returned archeologist and his daughter to the SGC, to stay off base with him.  It had been a hard won battle—Jack had resorted to some less than proper tactics to twist the General’s arm, using his own grandchildren to wrangle the man into admitting that he couldn’t expect a child to settle on the base, especially after the horror that she had been through that day.  Grudgingly he received Hammond’s acceptance, with the promise that they would all three return to the base promptly at 0800 the next morning for a more formal debriefing that would include what was left of the team and the Doctor.  He had yet to give Daniel the news.

On his way to the infirmary, where the archeologist was still rumored to be under the Dr. Fraiser’s care the soldier had spied Skaara.  The young man was forlornly sitting with the youth they had brought through the gate with them, in the ICU room adjacent to the larger main room of the infirmary.  He was slouched forward in a plastic chair, his dark head laid on arms that were braced on the mattress at the foot of the gurney.  He was wearing a military issued jumper, so he must have been allowed to shower—no doubt under guard knowing the SGC’s idea of hospitality.  As he detoured and approached the young man his steps roused the other.  Skaara sat up and turned in the chair, greeting him with a warm enough look that lacked even the barest of smiles and without uttering a sound.  Jack plunged his hands into his pockets to keep his fingers from fidgeting with the tension he felt in the room surrounding the poor kid in the bed.

There were tubes and wires running everywhere, monitors beeping and an IV dripping.  Skaara seemed about as impressed with the set up as Jack was, yet the Colonel made the effort to try to reassure the young man that the other would pull through with the help off all the strange gadgetry that seemed to sinisterly invade the others body.  Skaara was not fazed by the assurance, much to the soldier’s disappointment.  Damn he hated this sorta’ thing.

Jack opted for changing subject.  With a thin smile he tried to offer his invitation for the boy to join his brother in law and niece back at his Colorado Spring’s home as a lighter note to the grim situation.  Skaara refused.  “I cannot leave him.  It…would be wrong…” he shook his said, solemnly explaining, “I want him to wake and see my face.  I was his leader.  I still am.” 

The soldier gave his counterpart’s shoulder a squeeze, conveying to Skaara that he was a good man and a good leader.  The boy didn’t respond.  He simply readjusted his position in the chair, stretching his feet out on top of the end of the mattress and crossing his arms over his chest to settle back into his post.  Jack watched him a moment, finding it eerie to see the boy in the damned military issued fatigue jumpsuit.  Although he had never wanted it for the kid Skaara had become a soldier—a damn fine leader.  He would respect his wishes without comment.  There wasn’t much need for anything to be said.  Before leaving he patted the young man’s arm and said, “Make sure they feed you too.”

Skaara gave a nod of his head, but it wasn’t comforting in the least, not with the long line the press of his thin lips were set in.  Jack left him, not sure what to make of the whole encounter.  He found Daniel by following the sound of the little girl’s determined cries of protest chased by her father’s earnest apologies.  

The Colonel looked up from where he sat to see the other man fail to coax his daughter into cooperating freely.  It was a feeble attempt that consequentially failed.  The child was terrified and it stood to reason that she had a right to be.  She seemed to be naturally curious and adventurous but after that day…what had she seen?  What had she been through?  How had she and the other teen survived the attack?  He was just as interested to know as much as anyone, but all of that would have to wait.  If they pried at the girl now there was no telling how detrimental it may be for her, especially if she didn’t want to give the information voluntarily. 

The good doctor obviously wasn’t getting anywhere, despite her best efforts.  Daniel apologized profusely, after the fiery little girl proceeded to swat the tongue depressor from the doctor’s hand.  Janet smiled at the girl despite the incident and came down on her haunches so that she was below eye level with those wild blue eyes.  Taking her time the short woman used a smooth confident voice to plead with and explain to the child why she needed to poke, prod, and vampire vials of blood from her. The child wasn’t having any of it.  The little raven head shook fervently and then ducked into the hollow of her father’s neck and shoulder, tiny hands clawing at Daniel to protect her from the woman.  The archeologist apologized again, running his hands over the back of the girl’s dirty home-spun dress. 

  1.   The poor girl was five and had witnessed more destruction, cruelty, and horror than half of her father’s world would ever know.  Now here she was.  She had gotten her wish—a trip with her father through the stargate—and what was there to be excited about?  Soldiers with guns, General’s with orders, a Government with agendas, and doctor’s with strange instruments.  Jack couldn’t blame her.



“Can’t we give it up for tonight, Doc?” the Colonel insisted, standing and slowly making his way from the bed that he sat on over to the trio. 

Fraiser gave him a patronizing look with a firmness set to her pretty jaw that he remembered well.  She had orders too and she intended to do her best to complete them.  Daniel’s eyes were on him, surprisingly curious and meek, unsure no doubt about what Jack intended.  Jack gave an exaggerated shrug and pulled a hand from his pants pocket to gesture between the kid and the doctor, armed with her pen light and a new depressor.  “I mean, c’mon, is this really necessary?  The kid looks fine to me and she’s scared out of her wits.” he tried to negotiate.

Fraiser straightened her shoulders and stood as tall as her petite frame and high dark heels allowed to try and make a stand against his six foot two frame.  In a firm tone she lectured the Colonel, pointing a lecturing finger as she reminded him, “I just want to make sure that she isn’t carrying something that this facility cannot afford to pass on to Earth, Colonel.” She lifted an open palmed hand, pointing from the archeologist and his child back to Jack, propositioning, “If you want this to be over for Cindel faster, than perhaps you could help.”

“Help?” Jack couldn’t help but squeak the response—he wasn’t sure now what he had gotten himself in for.  He didn’t like doctor’s any better than the terrified kid.  Daniel stifled a snicker and that one sound, so intoxicating even in its simplicity, was enough to wash all of his fears away.  He grinned at the sneaky little doctor and then back at Daniel and the blue eye that peaked over a protective arm up at him.  “Right.  Whatever I can do.” He said, giving Fraiser a wide sarcastic smile.

The satisfying smile that curved the lipstick painted lips of the good doctor spoke of a devilment that the Colonel was unsure he had seen before on the small woman.  Those large brown eyes crinkled, as she ordered him to sit on the bed.  Jack did as he was commanded, plunking himself down so hard and so close to Daniel that his weight made the other man’s form jump slightly on the mattress.  The little raven head plastered against her father’s shoulder lifted ever so slightly and those blue eyes peered up at him—curiousity there now instead of fear and aggression. 

“Okay, doc, do your worst.” The Colonel dramatically invited, receiving a well-deserved kick to his shin from Daniel.

Janet stroked some of the long mahogany hair back behind one ear, pulling up her sleeves, as she began to explain in length that she was going to examine the Colonel’s throat, glands, eyes, and so on.  Her words were chosen carefully and spoken with determination and a gentleness that seemed oxymoronic to be used together.  Jack was then poked, prodded, and flashed with the damn penlight, to the giggles of the little girl and Daniel’s more stifled snicker.  When it was all over the soldier flopped backward and rolled away, pleading with the doctor to stop and for the little girl to avenge his honor.  Daniel laughed outright at that theatrically proclaimed comment and even Janet couldn’t completely hide the snicker his antics had brought on. 

As comical as it had been to act like a fool and play at fighting the doctor’s attentions, the tactic had worked.  Cindel agreed to have Janet examine her and announced when it was all over that the experience had been nothing—some of the first full sentences that kid had spoken out loud since coming through the gate.  Janet announced that she was in perfect health, squeezing her little knee and making her giggle and squirm.  Then out of her pocket she produced a sucker— _how cliché_ , Jack thought—and Cindel didn’t say much more after that, happily sucking on the candy.

After the doctor had cleared them to leave Daniel turned to Jack, his chin resting on the crown on his little girl who was still curled on his lap, back pressed against his chest, content with her treat.  In a low voice he thanked Jack.  “Janet tried to use me as her guinea pig but Cindel didn’t go for it.”

The older man shrugged and gave his friend a cheeky grin, clasping his hands together in his lap, as he tried to brush off the praise.  Daniel gave a thin smile then, looking distracted, as he mentioned that he should get the child to bed.  Jack jumped on the issue, announcing what he had accomplished with satisfaction.  Daniel’s response was less than warm and shockingly disappointing.

“Your place?” he asked, incredulously.  The surprise in his voice wounded Jack.  The soldier had thought the idea to be best for the man and his daughter. 

Then Daniel’s face pinched and in a meek voice he began to ramble, “I-I don’t know, Jack.  I don’t want to impose or invade and…and I can make do with the rooms here on the base for…now.” That final word ended it.  The archeologist bit his lip, refusing eye contact, and Jack could see the pain that was registering in the cobalt orbs, as they distantly searched to the floor.

“Daniel.” He said, firmly.  Those blue orbs obediently flashed up at him and he took the back of the man’s neck into his palm, gently applying a reassuring pressure.  “You are coming to my place and that’s final.” Jack insisted, pointing a finger at the scientist.  He pulled the ace he had used on the General out of his sleeve and dropped it on the man as though he were triumphantly announcing his victory on the card table.  “Think of the kid.  She needs a home, not some random bed in a stark SGC guest room, with a crappy mattress and boring décor.”

Daniel looked away again, his face taking on that pensive look that he got when he wanted to disagree but couldn’t find the grounds he wanted to make his stand on.  His teeth raked back over his bottom lip and quietly he whispered, “Jack…I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

Jack’s ace hadn’t done the job so he was about to release another, far lower tactic, when the raven head on Daniel’s chest popped up, curls bouncing, and from around the candy in her mouth Cindel announced, “Can we go now, daddy?”

Daniel smiled down patiently at the girl, explaining that the matter was currently being discussed.  With blunt finesse the child asked, “Can we go with him, daddy?” pointing a little finger at the soldier.  Jack couldn’t help but grin triumphantly at Daniel, who digressed with a frustrated sigh and tried to explain otherwise. 

Jack couldn’t give him that chance.  “Why, of course you can, sweetie.  I have a house and a dog and a bed for you and your dad.” He explained with a gushing enthusiasm that earned him not an austere glare from Daniel, as he had anticipated, but an ever so slight curl to the man’s full mouth.  The girl responded with an equal amount of ardor, clapping her hands and beginning to spout questions of every shape and size so quickly that Daniel had no choice but to accept the circumstances and agree to Jack’s arrangement.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I realize this wasn't posted on Friday lol ^-^;;; sorry! All of a sudden it was saturday afternoon and I was like, "Wait a darn tootin' minute, I am at swimming lessons with the boy...and his swimming lessons are on saturday...sooooooo AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! it's saturday!!!!! That mean's yesterday was Friday and on Friday I post a chapter and I know darn well I did NOT post a chapter yesterday..." So do I feel sheepish... XD sorry! Here it is lol Hope that you all enjoy it! <3<3<3<3

   

“You got a dog?” Daniel asked, over top of coffee cup that steamed in front of his face.  He sat on Jack’s couch and watched the full grown shaggy golden retriever chase a ball across the living room, with his daughter trailing afterward as fast as she could, peeling with deep belly-giggles.

Jack nodded and shrugged.  “Yup.  Sure did.” He said, sipping his beer bottle.  “After the shift I retired.  I got a little bored.  Farley cured that pretty quick.”

Daniel sent him a knowing smirk, taking a drink of the black brew, after he quickly thwarted his daughter’s attempt to mount the playful retriever with sharp bark of his own.  The child grinned and obeyed, looking between the two of them with that sparkle in her blue eyes that foreshadowed a future attempt as soon as the two of them weren’t paying attention.  He would have to keep an eye on her.  Then she was off after the dog again, picking up the tennis ball and ‘hucking it with a great deal of accuracy and strength down the length of Jack’s hallway.  Farley bounded up the few stairs out of the living room to follow it—Cindel not far behind. 

The archeologist turned back to Jack and awkwardly commented, “You always wanted a dog,” as he reached forward to the low coffee table between them and snagged another slice of the pizza from the half empty Papa John’s box.  They had ordered shortly after picking the retriever up from the neighbor’s. 

Jack sent his lover a smirk, as the man hungrily ate the slice, and teasingly prodded him, “As I recall, you didn’t think we could take care of one.”

“I knew we couldn’t take care of one.” Daniel said with finality, as if the old disagreement had been just as real and raw again now.  The assertive tone in his voice enticed the soldier.  Arguing with Daniel had always been something of a secret turn-on for the older man—there was just something about the passion that came from the archeologist when he was fired up that made his dick twitch. 

Farley came back towards the stairs of the living room panting and at a markedly slow pace that drew their attention.  Stretched along the length of his back was the little girl, plastered to him and stifling giggles.  “Cindel Samantha Jackson!” Daniel snapped, jumping to his feet so fast that the hot coffee spilled over the cups rim, burning his hand.  He winced in reflex and the cup fell, coffee darkening the light grey carpet and the pizza slice landed cheese-side down with a greasy splat on the glass top of the coffee table.  Jack stepped in and played peacemaker, reassuring the archeologist it was no big deal.  He hastened Daniel to the kitchen to run his hand under cold water and grab some paper-towel for the stain, as the little girl climbed off the animal and remorsefully hid in the corner of the front entry door and the short railing that over looked the lower leveled living room. 

Jack rubbed the younger man’s shoulder soothingly, sensing the tension suddenly apparent, as he reinforced that the incident had done no harm.  Daniel seemed to shrug out from under the touch and Jack grit his teeth, leaving to deal with the spilled brew and the pizza.  It didn’t take much to soak up the coffee and he decided he’d try harder in the morning—breaking out the spot-buster now wasn’t the best idea.  Blue eyes watched him from between the rungs of the railing and he couldn’t help but feel like the little face pushed between the bars looked comically like a pint-sized prison inmate with the size of the bottom lip she had jutted out.  He discarded the task and went to sit on the steps that led out of the lower level, close to the girl.  She looked away from him. 

In a quiet voice he spoke to her, dismissing the calamity as Farley nudged his elbow with his wet nose and slipped under his arm for his favorite ear scratch.  As his fingers ruffled the dog’s golden fur Farley gave a long low moan of satisfaction that captured the girl’s natural curiosity.  She had taken well to the dog.  Farley had proven to be the perfect ice breaker for introducing the child to a modern Earth home and the many strange amenities one provided.  The car ride had been especially fun and horrible.  The girl had balked when she first saw his big black dodge pick-up in the parking lot outside the base, but between the two of them they had managed to wrestle her inside and strap her down with a seatbelt.  After crying hysterically at the sound of the engine starting she had just as suddenly broke into shrill squeals of delight whenever he braked to turn a corner.  The retriever took to her the minute those big brown eyes met the awe and amazement of hers and anything else they had to do had been put aside, so the two of them could play together.  Coffee had been brewed, a beer cracked, and pizza delivered—changing clothes and bathing not yet accomplished.

Watching the small girl slowly turn back with an abashed smile on her mouth reminded Jack of these things now.  The airy dress was still horribly smudged with dirt and ash, now with the addition of red pizza sauce and melted cheese from supper.  It was a mottled shade of its original ivory and dusty pink that would have to be remedied with a good stain-remover and a soak in the washing machine.  His assessment was not able to miss the blackened toes and knees or the sand filled curls in the springy pony-tail atop her little head.

Cindel joined him after her moment of compunction had passed, her dirt ringed fingers seeking out and scratching the spoiled mutt where Jack had done.  Farley issued another appreciative moan, his long wide tongue flopping out of his panting mouth, as he closed his eyes in pleasure, making her giggle in response and scratch all the harder.  “Farley likes to be scratched.” Jack explained, using the comment as a platform to launch his next inquiry.  “But he likes a bath even more.  He needs a good bath.  Can you help me, Cindel?  You can wash his fur.”

The girl’s head bobbed exuberantly as she clapped her small hands together in excitement and rambled on about what a good helper she was.  As they passed the doorway to the kitchen Jack caught a glimpse of the archeologist still standing against the sink.  The water was turned off and his form was hunkered forward, hips braced against the counter, with a tea-towel bunged in his hands and buried against his face.  Jack saw the slight quiver to the man’s shoulder, the shudder of sobs stifled by the fabric.  The sight stabbed Jack through the heart, making him wince.  He almost stopped there—dropped everything and gone to the younger man—but a little eager hand grabbed his index finger, oblivious to her father’s distress, and tugged furiously, demanding his full attention.

The soldier escaped with the kid to the bathroom down the hall, running a warm bath filled with fluffy white bubbles that the Colonel was surprised liquid hand soap could make, and Farley appreciatively dove in, languishing in the warm sudsy water, taking full advantage of the pampering.  There was no coaxing needed to get the girl in the tub with the dog.  She had begun undressing almost before Jack had time to respectfully turn away and she had all but dove over the side.  She waded through the bubbles on her knees, tossing the suds up into the air and rubbing them into the dog’s long fur.  Farley didn’t seem to enjoy that as much but he indulged the kid’s antics with little complaint.  Jack then grabbed the dress and snuck out of the room, taking it with him to the master bedroom at the end of the hall to find something else of his to make a half decent load.  When he was done he gathered the items together into a plastic basket.  Upon leaving his room he found Daniel leaning against the door-jam to the bathroom, arms folded and ankles crossed.  His face was weary and there were dark purple rings under hooded red-rimmed eyes, that half-watched his daughter splashing in the tub with the dog.  The other half was distant, lost deep in thought.  Jack knew that look and he felt a stab of empathy for the man’s pain.

The steps of the soldier were enough to break the trance and Daniel gave him a sideways glance as he passed by with the laundry basket—in his astonishment the archeologist actually did a double take, not something Jack was used to seeing.  “You’re doing her laundry?  Now?” he blurted, with a furrow to his brow.

“Yup.” Jack announced, passing the younger man by as he kept on his path to the washing machine down in the basement.  From over his shoulder he reminded the child’s father, “I don’t exactly have something else lying around that the kid will fit in to.”

The soldier lingered a longing look on the man, as he slowly passed through the doorway into the large mudroom, where the stairs to the basement lay.  Daniel didn’t respond.  He simply adjusted the half-rims on his nose and resumed his previous lean against the jam, his vision glued on the floor.  It made the older man a little uncomfortable but he passed the feeling off, keeping on with the task at hand.  From the basement he could still hear the giggles and splashing in the bathroom now overhead, echoing off of the bare cement walls on the large open space.  He had yet to renovate.

Before the shift Daniel had encouraged him to develop the space, create a man-cave with a big flat screen and surround sound system to make watching hockey more realistic.  Jack had a sneaking suspicion it was just so he could watch documentaries on the small screen in the living room upstairs during the game.  They had gone as far as to have a contractor come out and give them a quote for the work but had never gotten around to picking all the necessary smaller items out, like flooring and paint.  The SGC was a demanding job, that they had loved, and so the reno had always gotten put aside.  The two of them had never moved in together, but the conversation strayed there now and then.  Having Daniel in his home again now seemed both too good to be true and to fit—even with the addition of his kid and the dog.  Perhaps it was just familiar and the fact that he had pined for this moment for the last six years.

Without Daniel around he had never thought of doing anything with the empty basement.  It served its purpose well and as a single retired middle-aged man there didn’t seem to be much sense in creating more space to have to keep clean.  His laundry was here near the stairs and there was lots of room for his hockey net. 

Jack went about the menial chore of spraying stain remover over each of the blotches that soiled the thin weight fabric of the small garment.  Then he ran some water into the basin of the utility sink and left the dress to soak for a while, grabbing his hockey stick and ball to occupy his time.  As he shot into the net, only missing a few times, the clamor upstairs began to change.  He heard the tub drain and the back door open for Farley to run off the wet outside in the warmth of the summer evening sunset, as the stomp of little feet on the run took over.  He left Daniel to handle the girl, knowing the man would look for and find whatever he desired, hoping that the space and time alone would serve to ease the awkwardness that lingered on his person. 

The Colonel shot off a few more goals, sinking the ball into the net from just about every possible angle before he put the stick down and tended the laundry again.  He dumped the rest of the load into the wash basin of the machine, slipping off his own black cotton tee to toss in on top, and then began the cycle.  As he climbed the stairs he realised the house was quiet once more.  The door to the guest bedroom was closed and he could hear the soft murmur of voices beyond.  He wasn’t sure he liked the idea of having to leave Daniel be for the evening—at least a part of him certainly was having a hard time with the sentiment—but in all decency he couldn’t pester the younger man.  Daniel needed time, yes, and space.  Especially if Jack wanted his company to remain here, where he could protect care for the two of them.

Jack went about his normal routine, now that things had quieted down.  He had forgone cleaning and shaving after the mission thanks to everything that had transpired.  Now it seemed like a whirlwind that had swept him away.  Undressing in his ensuite he couldn’t believe how terrible he smelled, new and old sweat now mingled, and how much sand and dirt was cemented to his person.  Stepping under the warm shower head he felt like what he imagined a snake might, as it shed and old dull skin to reveal the shiny new scales beneath.  He adjusted the dial on the shower head for maximum pressure and began to scrub until every inch of him had been cleaned.  Then he lifted his arms and braced himself against the glass tiled wall allowing the pulsing water streaming at high speed out of the showerhead to massage his shoulders and neck.  The water ran off of him in thick rivulets that forced his eyes closed and beaded off of the tip of his nose.  He stayed like that until the steam in the small room threatened to choke him. 

When he stepped out, he grabbed a towel and ran it quickly over his head and then the length of his body, before he wiped the buildup of condensation off of the mirror above the quartz vanity.  His reflection showed nothing shiny and new but his skin was a clean pink from scrubbing.  He hung the towel up and finished his routine methodically, shaving, brushing his teeth, and finger combing his silver cropped hair.  He was exhausted when he was finished, his body completely drained of its second wind, and he stepped out of the bathroom into the master to flop into bed sans the nightwear.

The soldier froze, naked in the threshold between the two rooms, the buildup of steam billowing out like smoke around him, as sable eyes locked with cobalt across the room.  Daniel froze too, wide eyed and now flushing.  Jack’s eyes broke contact to sweep over the other man—the archeologist had bathed as well, much more efficiently than himself, lavishing under the hot water as he had.  The younger man was now wearing a pair of Jack’s flannel pants and had been about to pull a cotton tee from the tall dresser drawer.

“Don’t worry, take what you need.” Jack insisted, gesturing to the dresser and the closet.

The older man caught those cobalt orbs dart from his face, down lower and back up, before Daniel sputtered an apology, something about intruding, and then tried to scamper away in haste.  Jack was closer to the door and cut the man off.  “It’s not a big deal, Daniel.” He said, with an awkward shrug as he closed the door and snagged his black robe down from behind it.  He slipped it on, making sure he was blocking the others exit, as he inquired about the girl.  “Cindel’s out for the count?” he said and then wished he hadn’t—that sounded awful presumptuous.  Jack quickly amended with a grimaced, “I mean, she’s comfortable enough in the guest room there?”

Daniel had stopped a safe distance from Jack, near the corner of the queen-sized bed neatly parked in the middle of the room.  The scholar nodded his head, licking his lips and not wanting to make eye contact again.  The older man noticed how the darkened and damp hair fell forward with the downward cast of the scholar’s head, sweeping in to cover half his face like a heavy curtain.  With his hair wet it laid heavy and longer than Jack had ever seen on the man before, the front bang close the tip of his nose and the back length trailing well down the length of his slender neck.  Jack’s eyes roamed from there onward down the lithe figure, following the hard rounded shoulders down over the ripple of contoured abdominals, ending where the band of the flannel pants sat low on his lover’s hips.  His entire stance, although uncomfortable to say the least, was firm and enticing. 

Jack had to clench his teeth to keep his jaw from going slack as he ogled his lover.  It had been far too long since Jack had seen this much of the archeologist—it was one thing to make love to the archeologist in the dark sandy corridor of that ancient temple and it was an entirely different thing to have the man here, in his home and half fucking naked, so near to the bed that they had once harmoniously shared. 

The Colonel’s interlude was broken by a derisive tsking smack of the other man’s lips, before he gave a short response, which Jack liberally took for being an affirmed ‘leave-off’.  “She fell asleep the minute her head hit the pillow and a damp dog took my spot.” He paused, pursing his lips and quickly swiping the curtain of hair that had fallen in front of his eyes back neatly behind one ear.  His hands were fidgety as he gestured between the closet and himself, stuttering to say, “I thought you kept the extra blankets in your closet?”

“Ah, not any more…I, ugh, made room in the linen closet at the end of the hallway.” Jack reluctantly opened the door—scolding himself with a reminder that a decent man would have better manners and virtues—as he added, “Here, let me grab some for myself.  You can have this room.”

Daniel shook his head in disagreement, issuing a hasty, “M-mm.  This is your room, Jack, I can’t—?”

“You can and you will.  My house my rules.” Jack lectured, as he slipped out of the bedroom and closed the door quickly behind him.  His hand lingered on the handle and he sighed.  His cock twitched against the fabric of the robe haphazardly thrown on and done up.  Seeing Daniel half naked and wearing those damned thin grey-plaid flannel pants, so obviously fucking commando beneath, had almost gotten the better of Jack’s wits.  For a second there, when he had gotten the door closed and had Daniel there like that, his mind had run wild with salacious thoughts of ravishing the archeologist on the spot.  Tipping the man’s head back, feeling the length of that thick dark hair between his fingers.  His blood would pump to the sound of Daniel’s pleasure-ridden moans that would sing in his ears.  Before his eyes he had imagined plunging himself inside his lover, taking what he wanted with an appetence that wouldn’t be satisfied until they were both spent and sweaty on the mattress, and even then would linger at the back of his mind pestering for more.

His cock twitched again, as he remembered how he had allowed his thoughts to almost run amuck in the bedroom moments earlier.  He chastised his lecherous imagination and the damned swollen thing with its insatiable appetite for that one fucking man.  He berated his desires and their influences over his system, making a marked point of letting go of the handle to the bedroom.  Mechanically he went about gathering a blanket and a pillow, moving slowly, loathing to take to the couch instead of his own bed with his lover beside him. 

 _It’s better this way_ , he thought to try and reassure himself, as he flopped onto the sofa.  He stuffed the pillow behind his head and draped the plush throw over himself.  _Space and time._


	21. Chapter 21

Sam lay out on the cold hard steel floor, so perfect that it lacked any joint, abrasions, or markings, gleaming a dark metallic smoky grey.  Her limbs twitched with jerky muscle spasms, small and disjointed, moving her frail limbs out of the spread-eagle pattern she had been arranged in.  Her blond hair shone a bright shiny gold in the luminescence of the harsh light that was cast down over her from a large orb which hovered in a stationary position over her body.  Her face turned.  He could see the tears rimming her blue eyes, marred by broken blood vessels that spotted the white of the sclera.  He saw the streak of fresh red blood from the corner of her nostril, as her breathing hitched and she coughed violently.  Droplets of crimson blood sprayed from between her lips, staining her white teeth and the expanse of her naked chest.  Her lips moved—she was saying his name—her fingers lifted towards him, so exhausted and weak that she could not even lift her entire hand. 

Violently her entire frame arched, the bottom of her sternum raising to the ceiling, as if there was some invisible cable that was hoisting her upwards by her rib cage.  Her limbs and head dragged slackly after.  Her body was lifted until her toes and fingers left the cold steel floor and then it dropped, slamming downwards into an awkward position at the whim of gravities pull, like a marionette discarded by an invisible puppeteer.  Sam choked again, another spray of blood, followed by chunks of dark purple matter.  Her pale blue-tinged skin was smeared with streaks and drops of red.  Her head lolled to face him—her lips moved, saying his name—as tears slipped down her cheeks to her ear.  The muscle spasm jerked her biceps and calves, her forearms, shoulders, and thighs.  Then…then she was still.

A red light appeared from somewhere in the pitch black around the cone of light that illuminated the gory spectacle.  It’s point appearing at the notch of her clavicle bones.  There was a faint hiss emitted and a soft waft of smoke plumed upwards.  Blood welled at the point, pooling before running down over, as the point of light slowly began to descend down between the parallel run of her abdominals until it reached the top of the pubic bone.  As her torso opened from the pulling of gravity on the separated muscle and skin alone, he saw her lips move—she said his name.

Daniel started so violently that when he finally had come to his senses he was backed into the far corner of the bedroom, wedged between the tall mahogany dresser and the white closet doors.  His head was in his hands, his palms holding the hot pulsing between his temples, and his breathing was so fast he felt slightly faint.  His body was rigid with tension and as he slowly came back to reality, his knees buckled and he slumped against the wall into a crouching position.  He forced his wide eyes closed, willing his breathing to slow, making a strong effort to draw slow and long deliberate breaths.  After a long while he was finally able to stand, coming out from the small space and to his bare feet.  The room was dark, illuminated by a warm light from the street lamps outside that shown in through the wide window above the headboard of Jack’s bed.  The mattress was exposed, the duvet on the other side of the room and the sheet stripped to the floor boards. 

The archeologist cursed in a whisper, running quivering fingers back through his hair to pull it out of his line of vision.  Taking one more deep breath, he held it for a moment before exhaling.  Then he began to move about the room, tossing the bed back together into a haphazard shamble of what it had previously been.  The tremors still hadn’t left him and he balled his fingers into fists at his side to quell them.  He needed to clear his head. 

Quietly the scientist opened the bedroom door and padded out into the empty dark hallway.  The house was completely silent—accented by the street beyond the house and the regular thrum of city that could not compare to the silence of an Abydonian night.  He stopped at the guest room’s closed door, listening.  He couldn’t hear his daughter’s soft snoring beyond and that of the shaggy retriever that she had fallen so easily for.  He hoped her sleep would be deeper. 

He continued onward, turning the corner and coming into the entranceway that branched off to the kitchen, dining room, and living room.  His eyes landed on the short couple of stairs that led to the lower level and as he listened he could hear the slow deep rhythmic breathing of Jack.  The sound was so comforting that it sent a pain through his chest.  How many nights had he fallen asleep to the sound of that man breathing beside him in his tent, on the couch, and in his bed?  The pain was enough to keep him moving. 

Kitchen, drink, and back to bed—it was a clear plan that he found himself unable to follow.  Was it the fear of the nightmares or the eerie familiarity of being back on Earth and in this house?  He had come to a point where he considered himself at home here with Jack—then.  It had taken a long time and many half-argued conversations with the man but Daniel had come to feel like he belonged within the walls and rooms of the Colonel’s home.  Now he felt like an intruder, invading, squatting unlawfully where he could not ever be accepted. 

Jack’s intentions were clear and Daniel was not exactly sure why the feeling plagued him—his mind was a jumbled mess that he wasn’t quite sure he could sort out. 

Grabbing a glass from the cupboard he got himself some water.  As the liquid hit his dry palette he thought of Sha’uir and of her father, Kasuf.  The image of that hideous headless body flashed before his eyes.  It took him a moment of concentration to dispel it.  It must have been a painless death, if nothing else.  No doubt the best he could have hoped for, based on what he had witnessed of the destruction wrought on the city and its murdered people.  Had she ended up like that or was she smothered by the acrid smoke, left choking and wheezing until she passed out and passed on?  His heart ached at the thought, as the cold water hit his stomach like a dip in arctic waters. It sent a chill down the length of his exposed back and gave raise to goosebumps on his bare flesh.  Despite it he took another long drink before leaving the glass by the sink.

Trying to clear his mind he moved without direction out of the kitchen, his feet moving without forethought through the dining room to the opening that over looked the lower level of the living room beyond.  Suddenly he was there.  He was leaning down against the low wall, looking at the sleeping form of the older man, who had valiantly opened up his house to the homeless archeologist and his daughter.  Daniel snorted and a quick smile curled the corner of his mouth at the sight of the long man scrunched into an uncomfortable looking fetal position on the love seat.  His one arm was tucked under his head to compensate for the MIA pillow, the other arm dangled down off of the sofa.  The striped throw was attempting to flee as well, already pooled half on the floor, only covering the Colonel’s legs.  Jack was still in the dark robe but the tie had loosened and the front gaped open.  He looked hilariously too large for the small couch he was stretched out on, one of his bare feet sticking out over the arm on the other end.  He also looked cold. 

Daniel took pity on the man and came back to the entranceway, coming silently down the steps.  He picked up the edge of the blanket and tucked it back in on the far side of the slumbering bear.  The older man slept so soundly at times that Daniel didn’t hesitate to gently lift his head and reposition the pillow back at its post.  Jack didn’t even start, his rhythmic breathing unaffected by Daniel’s aid. 

When the archeologist finally retreated back to the master bedroom, he felt lighter—freer. Perhaps he did belong here after all.  It had just taken a bit to reacquaint himself with the place to remind him of the fact.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MAKE SURE YOU READ THE END NOTES for a MUCH DESERVED SURPRISE!!!!

Jack awoke abruptly in the morning to being assaulted by something furry and something else with frigid fingers.  His eyes were shocked open just moments before the weight of a tiny form scrambled onto his chest and he felt Farley leap onto his legs.  Pinned beneath fur and giggles he struggled to comprehend his surroundings.  Then he heard the bounce of the tennis ball somewhere down the hallway and the scrape of Farley’s claws as he assented to chase it—oh, yes, he was in the living room, squished onto the love seat. 

The girl scrambled after the animal in an awkward gaggle of flailing limbs, pealing with laughter.    Then all he knew was bursting pain, exploding from the clip of her heel square in his junk, as she dismounted and disappeared.  He whined in pain, crumpling his form around the injury which resulted in the couch depositing him unceremoniously in a heap of bathrobe and blanket on the floor.  With his face pressed against the light colored rug and his hands cupping his wounded family jewels, he came to his senses.  “Good morning to you too, kid.”

It took him longer than he would ever admit to any else to recover.  Slowly coming to his feet he managed to hobble up the stairs out of the living room to check on the girl and the dog.  He found them running circles around his dining room table.  One chair had already been knocked over and so Jack decided to put the pair out in the back yard to run off the overabundance of energy.  He forgot to grab the kid’s sandals but the girl seemed not to care. 

The soldier smiled as he watched the girls bare fit hit the lush green lawn for what was probably the first time—it was true that there wasn’t much in the way for grass on Abydos.  She had been running full tilt after the dog until her toes came into contact with the plush dew soaked lawn.  She stopped so abruptly the soldier had thought her momentum would carry her into a tumble.  She stood there, perfectly still, with her eyes trained on the wiggle of each of her little piglet-toes, enjoying the sensation of each blade of grass between them.  Farley trotted back to her, another tennis ball in his mouth, and suddenly the time of wonder was over.  She took off like a shot throwing the ball as hard as she could across the fenced in yard.  There was going to be many more firsts for that kid, he just hoped that she handled them as well as she had this one.

With the two noise makers safely enclosed in the backyard, Jack turned on his bare heel and came back inside.  The cement step outside the back door had been icy on his bare feet and he was glad to have them back inside on the warmer hardwood.  Still sore and walking with limp to allow the boys space to ‘walk it off’, the man made his way back to his kitchen, setting to the task of brewing a fresh pot of coffee.  He’d have a cup but the effort was more for Daniel, who he hoped had slept through the raucous that had ended his hope of sleeping in.

Jack was normally a fairly regular early riser—just part and parcel to a life in the military—but the clock on the coffee pot told him that it was ridiculously early.  He hadn’t gotten up at five in the morning since he’d retired six years ago.  He grumbled about the early wake-up call as he went about prepping the pot when he remembered the laundry.  He had yet to switch the load to the dryer—what the heck was the kid wearing if her one dress was still wet in the washing machine?  Had he just loosed her into his back yard buck naked—surely he hadn’t been that unobservant!  He checked the back yard through the kitchen window and caught a glimpse of the dark haired girl wearing a very oversized grey t-shirt that hung off one shoulder and reached to well past her knees.  He sighed in relief and then made the trip to the basement to set her clothes to drying. 

Back upstairs he grabbed himself that one cup once the pot had beeped its completion and grabbed all the fixings for breakfast to take outside with him.  The only view his kitchen had of the backyard was the window above the sink and he didn’t feel limber enough to climb up there to have his morning cup of joe to keep an eye on his mutt and the kid.  He sat on the deck in one of his elongated lawn chairs with nothing on but his shades and the dark fuzzy bathrobe, slurping fruit loops as he watched Farley run himself ragged chasing that tennis ball that the future softball pitcher kept ‘hucking back and forth.  It was the most entertainment he’d seen from his deck since some damned teenagers had tried to take off with his patio furniture.  He was pretty sure those kids had never run faster in their entire lives and Farley looked as though he needed a break. 

Jack drain that last of the sugary milk into his mouth and put the bowl aside to whistle to the mutt.  The sharp call made both of them stop in their tracks.  The girl then followed the dog’s lope towards the deck and up the stairs.  The retriever came to him, sitting neatly back on his haunches in front of his master.  Jack praised him, scratching behind his ears before tossing the dog a few fruit loops that he expertly caught one by one in mid-flight.  The girl’s eyes went wide with surprise and then she too praised the dog with scratches behind his ears.

“You hungry?” Jack asked her, getting a quick nod of her head.  “C’mon then, I have something I think you’ll like.”  He grabbed the arm of the other lawn chair pulling it closer and patted the seat.  The little girl did not hesitate to jump up into the chair, her little feet nowhere near reaching the edge of the long cushion.  Jack grabbed the other bowl he had brought and dumped the colorful sugar rings inside, pouring on a fair dollop of milk.  He added a spoon just before handing it over to her small and eager hands. 

She studied it a moment, curiously asking, “What is it called?”

“Well,” he said, leaning back in the chair, “it’s an earth delicacy.  Only the very rich and powerful, extremely good looking people get to have some.” She didn’t seem too fazed by his adjectives and so he finished with, “But seeing I am such a good guy I thought I’d share some with you.  It’s called Fruit Loops, collected by the wings of the rare tucan Sam.”

Nope, she didn’t seem to acknowledge his humor at all.  From the first spoonful to the last she was quiet, completely engrossed in devouring the cereal.  “All done!” she announced before even swallowing the last mouthful.  She plunked the empty bowl and spoon down into his hands and then took off running, calling to Farley to follow her as she went.

The soldier watched her prance around like a little fairy in the long unshapely t-shirt and smiled despite himself when she tripped on the hem from a misplaced step and tumbled over in the grass.  Farley took advantage of her moment of inability to lick the sugar and milk off from around her mouth, as she laughed, and Jack figured he better at least attempt to do something about her clothes so she could play with ease.  He snuck down the stairs of the deck and into the mudroom at the back entrance, grabbing the first belt he could find—and wrapped the bungee cord around her midsection twice before linking the hooks comfortably together.  “Better then nothin’.” He said, patting her shoulder. 

Again the kid didn’t seem to mind and the make-shift belt worked just fine, keeping the hem of the cotton tee far enough away from her feet that she could play and run as she liked.  The man returned to his deck, noticing his neighbor eyeing the back yard curiously.  Jack waved at the older man, greeting Ron as his wife Kathy joined him with a cup of coffee.  The Colonel knew the ex-pilot and his flight attendant wife well, they took Farley for him when he was away and they exchanged turns maintaining yards during their getaways, but he thought the look of amazed speculation on their faces was damned cute.  They wanted to ask, desired to know, but were far too polite to actually inquire as to just who the raven haired cutie was and why she was there—not to mention why she was wearing one of his oversized tees with a bungee cord belt.  The greeting was all they shared and then they tried to go about their summer morning routine of eating sausage and eggs on the patio despite the entertaining bit of gossip that played happily in the divorced and single ex-airmen’s backyard.

Jack settled back down into his chair and had just about finished his coffee when the sliding doors burst open and Daniel suddenly appeared in a frantic panic, shouting questions, “Where is she?  Jack, Cindel’s gone!  The room was…”

“Whoa, Danny, she’s fine.” The Colonel said jumping out of his lawn chair.  He stood beside the distraught younger man, taking his biceps into his hands to halt his panic induced frenzy.  The soldier pointed at the girl happily playing with the dog and the other man’s kid stopped to wave. The pause was only momentary.  She squealed a terribly excited salutation, “Morning, Daddy!” before ignoring the two of them and continued as though the archeologist had not appeared.

The younger man’s frame sagged with relief that was tinged by embarrassment and Jack directed him to the other chair.  Daniel flopped down into it, raking back the length of his hair back from his eyes, and sighed a frustrated breath.  His ashamed blue eyes darted between Jack and out into the yard where his daughter happily played.  “Dammit, Jack, I’m sorry…I don’t know what came over me…” he said, gesturing wildly as he tried to explain himself through a whirlwind babble of words, “I woke up, her bedroom was empty, the house was quiet…?”

Jack laid a reassuring hand on his lover’s bare shoulder, bolstering the man as best he could. “It’s not a big deal, Daniel.” He said, waving his nearly empty coffee cup in small circles, “It’s been a rough little while.  You’re back on earth, in a strange house, I mean who could blame you?”

Daniel sighed again, dropping his face into his hands, supported by his elbows on top of his knees.  He parted the palms just far enough that he could speak and in a harsh self-berating tone he remarked, “It’s not a strange house, Jack, it’s your house.”

“It has been six years, Danny,” the soldier insisted softly.  His hand drifted down from the man’s shoulder to give a short reassuring rub over his shoulder blades, as he continued, “She’s a good kid.  Her and Farley are having a blast and she’s been fed and watered.  Not much more to worry about.”

“Thank you.” Came the resigned voice, still not wanting to fully accept the incident and the consequential embarrassment.

Jack happened to notice that the appearance of a half clothed man on his deck had only served to fuel the neighbors curiosity and to save Daniel from realizing that fact he invited to younger man back inside to grab a cup of coffee and a shirt. 

It didn’t take a psychiatrist to figure out that the archeologist was still just as tense and on edge as he had been the previous day, much to the Colonel’s disappointment.  He had hoped that the familiarity of the house and a proper rest would help the younger man to transition to being back on Earth.  Instead it seemed to be contributing to the opposite and the exhaustion was plain to see on the man’s face and figure.  Jack sat Daniel at the small kitchen table, snagging the archeologist a coffee from the pot.  “There’s not much here for breakfast but Fruit Loops, but you’re welcome to roam the cupboards.” Jack explained, as he caught a glimpse of the clock.  It was now 0553 hours.  Time to start thinking about how to go about the day of debriefing at the base with a five year old in tow. 

As the older man left the room to begin some of the necessary preparations he noticed that Daniel had decided against the sugary cereal and was now snooping in the fridge, leaving Jack confident that he wouldn’t be too missed.  In the span of another thirty minutes he had accomplished a lot of what needed to be done.  Farley’s food and fresh water had been put out, he’d brought up the load from the dryer and folded it, he had righted the bedrooms from the nights slumber, and he had freshened up in his ensuite.  Jack had never thought of himself as a domestic type but there was something about having Daniel and the kid around that got his ass in gear. 

Now he was dressed in a pair of boot-cut jeans and had thrown on a black tee, ready for a long day of work.  As he rounded the corner into the kitchen he caught Daniel’s unmistakable chuckle, soft and real.  “Cindel…are you still wearing Jack’s shirt?  And what is that around your…a bungee cord?” It lifted Jack’s spirits to know that his addition to the kid’s wardrobe was humorous.  

“Better than nothin’, Daddy.” Cindel parroted in a tone that bordered disastrously close to being impertinent.

Daniel was kneeling on the floor before the girl, inspecting and adjusting the red bungee around his daughter’s thin waist.  There was a small curl to the corner of his mouth that reassured Jack of the man’s unfathomable ability to accept, move-on, and adapt to even the most horrendous of circumstances.  Cindel’s eyes spied him leaning against the door of the stove and she announced his presence by pointing at the dress the soldier had brought from the laundry for her, appreciatively squealing, “My dress!”

The kid disengaged from her father’s ministrations and lopped over to the soldier, her little fingers snatching the dress out of his hands.  Then right there, in the middle of the kitchen she ditched the bungee cord belt and tee, stripping naked to put on her own clothes.  Jack averted his eyes—completely uncomfortable—as she slipped into the thin weight garment that was now dirt and tomato sauce free.  Daniel’s quick thanks brought his attention back to safely find the girl clothed once more and spinning to make the layers of the home spun fabric float about her little knobby knees. 

“What do you say, Cindel?” her father prompted.  Obediently the little bird chirped her own thanks and then slammed into his legs with another one of her squeezing hugs. 

“No problem.” Jack said, patting her long dark curls bound once more in the high pony tail on top of her small head. 

As she skipped away to scramble into one of the chairs at the table beside her father, Daniel grabbed another cup full of joe and sat back down.  Jack joined them, noticing that the Fruit Loops had been retrieved from the deck and that the little girl had one bowl and Daniel had another—there really wasn’t much in the house at the moment.  He’d remedy that later.  He’d make a point then of getting the kid some more clothes too—especially some ginch. 

The archeologist rubbed his palm around the heated exterior of the mug, spinning it by the handle in his other hand.  His eyes had drifted down to the dark brew in the cup, as though he were studying the circular ripples the movement caused on the dark liquid surface.  He looked up as Jack took a seat, a minimal glance that seemed to only assess that someone was sitting and in which seat, before returning to the mug before him.  To his left the kid was playing with the dry cereal in her bowl, now attempting to catapult the loops into her mouth with very little hope of success—too bad her catapult was not as efficient as her throwing arm.  The soldier ignored the kid’s fun and turned back to the distant man opposite him. 

Daniel did not look much like he wanted to talk.  He looked like he ought to crawl back into bed and try to sleep off those rings under his half-hooded eyes, but there was no time for that.  They were due back on base at 0800 hours and there were a few things they’d have to discuss before those meetings started.  “So…” Jack began, clasping his hands together in front of him on the top of the oak table.  There was no time like the present. “I promised the General we’d be back at the SGC today.”

“I remember.” Daniel answered him, his blue orbs not leaving the mug’s rim, as he sighed and added, “We will need to take a look at the MALP that Hammond sent back to Abydos.  Maybe there will be something there that will help us find a place to start.  Right now…I’m not sure we know what to do.”

“The General’s going to have his orders,” Jack reminded the other.

“Of course, but,” Daniel paused, his eyes narrowing as he moistened his lips, calculating what to say next.  Then those eyes flashed on Jack and he was given a taste of the tension and edge that weighed on the other.  “I mean, it’s not the same any more.  Things have changed.  We have no way of knowing what will come next.  We don’t even know who attacked…” he brusquely quelled the words that he had begun to say, giving his daughter a wayward glance, as he clamped his mouth shut with grit teeth.  He was rethinking his phrasing, eventually amending, “Do we still go to Chulak?  What will we find there?  Where’s Teal’c?  Or should we focus on Abydos and…and who’s responsible?”

Jack moved to respond, but the words seemed sticky on his tongue, and the girl beat him to it.  “Are we going home now, Daddy?” she cut-in, her small voice in a plain conversational tone, as she broke little sugar rings on the table trying to slip her pinky through their centres. 

Daniel turned to his daughter, the pain of the question so damned plain in those sapphire eyes.  He addressed her using a slow tone, which was amazingly calm, to explain succinctly, “No, Cindel.  We can’t go home…not for a long while.”

“Good.” The little bird chirped to her father, still busy playing with the cereal, “I don’t want to leave yet.  I like it here.”

“I’m glad.” Daniel responded, before his eyes migrated back to the surface of his full cup of cooling joe. 

Jack grabbed the man’s wrist, giving it a squeeze with his fingers.  Daniel didn’t look back but Jack knew he had at least some of the archeologist’s attention.  “You’re overthinking things, Daniel.  Don’t jump to conclusions.”  Daniel pursed his lips, giving a wan nod of his head, making Jack want to add another reassurance.  “And don’t worry about that other stuff.  You two are staying here with me.  Skaara too.”

Jack could see the glassy glint of tears welling on the sclera of the man’s eyes that stubbornly stared forward instead of looking at the soldier.  Daniel mouthed a quick thanks that he didn’t seem able to get out and Jack squeezed his arm again before standing back up from the table.  “C’mon, Cindel,” he beckoned to the kid, “let’s give your dad some time to get dressed.  Farley is going to stay with Ron and Kathy today and then we are going for another ride in the truck.”

“Really?!” she cried, jumping out of the chair with youthful alacrity and to come into step beside him.  Her little fingers snatched up his hand, encircling the two outside fingers, as she began to swing his arm and sing prettily something he couldn’t understand.

Jack took his time taking Farley over to the neighbors, hoping that Daniel would take his time preparing to head back to the SGC to face all the tough questions and discussions that lay ahead of them all.  Plus the soldier needed to come up with a good cover so unnecessary gossip didn’t pollute the neighborhood.  Ron and Kathy were great neighbors but they had lived in the area for fifty-plus years, with their noses firmly planted into everyone else’s business out of concern for their fellow neighbors.  The social status quo of suburbian life—it was what it was.  All he’d have to do to set the record straight and keep people off of their backs was convince the Fifleman’s that Daniel was a newly widowed friend—yes, and the poor man had lost everything in the house fire—with guilt resigned faces the couple gave Jack their condolences, explaining that they were willing to help in any way that may be needed.  They were happy to watch Farley for the day and the retriever needed extra reinforcement to leave the girl’s side even with the prospect of playing with the Fifleman’s bossy little dachshund—who was surprisingly not in sight.  Cindel seemed just as put out, cheered only when Jack reminded her that they were going for another ride.

With that matter nipped in the proverbial bud Jack tried to direct the little girl back towards the house to stave off an incident that may contradict his fabrication.  She was distracted by Tobey, who had decided that he would grace them all with his presence.  The older dachshund came up to their heels in his waddled gate, looking appropriately much more like an overstuffed sausage than a dog.  It made a snapped bark or two that the little mongrel followed by a low territorial growl, mostly directed at Jack.  Ron shushed the bossy black and brown wiener-dog as Kathy gave the usual invite to join them for food.  Jack pleasantly declined, having filled himself now with coffee and sugary cereal, only to have Cindel accept, bounding away into the open space of the neighbor’s yard with both dogs running after her.

Jack sighed, squinting at the raven haired cutie.  The little bird was so blissfully unaware of everything else that weighed on her father’s mind and shoulders, fully intent on enjoying herself for the duration of her stay here on Earth.  The child’s antics amused the older woman, her smile crinkling around her hazel flecked eyes, as she chuckled at the way the two dogs circled the child’s feet and begged for her attention.  “What a darling little one,” she said wistfully, tucking the silvered blond hair of her handsome bob back behind the curve of her ear.  She took the crook of her husband’s arm with one hand and gestured towards the girl with the other, her delicate petite digits just beginning to show the effects of her arthritis.  In a voice that betrayed her longing, she said, “She’s so happy…you could leave her here, Jack, with us and Tobey.  She seems to be enjoying herself.”

Jack wished he could take the older lady up on her offer.  Her husband’s kind smile was inviting and he knew that the little bird would be in no better hands than here, doted upon by the kindly elderly couple who lacked any grandchildren do so with.  “I’d love to, Kathy, but I’m afraid Cindel has some appointments along with her father this morning.  Insurance and doctors and that.” The explanation was brief but the effects were not.  Kathy seemed immensely crestfallen, making his decline of the offer all that harder to resist, but she was saved by her quick thinking husband.

Ron gave Jack that reassuring smile of his that he no doubt had given many airline passengers before, that spoke volumes of his professional experience and aptitude, as he suggested assertively, “Well, let the girl stay and play until you are ready to go.  She’s enjoying herself and you no doubt have papers and the like to gather up if your friend has to deal with that sort of thing today.”

Jack agreed that he couldn’t turn that down and so the couple settled into their matching lawn chairs, with the half ate breakfast spread between them on the small glass table top, as Jack gave the child a quick rundown.  Cindel was ecstatic to stay, especially after Kathy had shown her the sausages and little English muffins on the plate.  He wasn’t sure how she was going to eat any more but she seemed to want to find the room, as he left through the side gate and came back into his own house. 

The atmosphere inside was stifling in comparison.  The soldier had a hard time putting that kind of feeling into words but he knew it well.  Tension, so thick he felt like he was wading through it as he moved through the house, looking for Daniel.  He wasn’t sure why, only that it was there and that it wasn’t going to be easily dispelled.  The soldier couldn’t expect it to even if he wished it could be.  Daniel was not only grieving the death of his wife but also the loss of his home and his people—now also the guilt that he so obviously felt over the entire situation.  It was suffocating.  He only wished he were better at dealing with this sort of thing so that he could help.

Jack found the archeologist in the master bedroom.  He was standing by the opened closet, wearing nothing but a pair of Jack’s faded denim jeans, which hung loosely off of the smaller man’s hips.  Jack could see the curve of the man’s spine, the shapely contour of finely toned muscle along its length, and the protuberance of the shoulder blades that sculpted his shoulders.  His eyes were scanning aimlessly and his hands were fidgeting with what looked like collar of the one polo that Jack had forgot he owned.  His hair was pushed back from his face, damp with the water he must have used to brush it back, hanging straight down from his crown to the nape of his neck, where the ends seemed to wing out ever so slightly.  He had shaved, the skin around his jawline slightly pink from the movement of the razor.  That jaw was tensed, pronounced by the bulge of the joint just below the end of the man’s sideburn.

Jack cleared his throat and quietly asked, “Ready to go?”

The younger man was not startled by his presence or the question although he did not answer or move.  His head dipped forward and Jack watched him pull the sky blue collared polo on over his dark hair, letting the thin poly-cotton fabric fall over his defined chest and torso to hang loosely on his frame.  The archeologist adjusted his glasses and then turned slightly to face him, saying simply, “Yes.”

Jack came into the room, driven towards the other man by the meekness in his tone and the suffocating air of the room.  His hands took his shoulders and the soldier demanded direct eye-contact from those half-hooded blue orbs.  The younger man tried to resist but Jack was firm.  “It’s going to be okay, Daniel.  We will get through this.  Just like we always have.”  The other man nodded and averted his gaze.  Jack wasn’t sure if it was because he agreed or if he was just trying to appease him to break the contact.  “Cindel’s strong, Daniel.  She will be okay.  You’re safe here.”

That got his attention.  Those cobalt eyes flashed on Jack with a force that made Jack’s heart swell.  “I know that she is.” He affirmed with a strength that convinced the soldier he meant it.

“You’re strong too.”

Daniel looked away again and his body relaxed beneath Jack’s hands in defeat. 

“We will find a way to fix this.”

The archeologist gave an acrid chuckle, his eyes crinkling with a sardonic grimace, “We’ve fucked things up enough already…not sure we should try fixing anything…”

The soldier’s lips pursed.  He could not deny the truth in that statement even though it stung.  The soldier had considered the same things and had been able to sweep the unhelpful thoughts under the rug of his own determination, tromping past them as though they had never been there.  The scholar had just thrown back that rug and revealed all the dirt beneath, damned determined that they were going to deal with it, even if they didn’t know how.  It was like reopening a raw wound and going through the pain of cleaning out the dead flesh and infection with the hopes that it could be closed and allowed to heal without killing the owner.

Daniel’s face was pensive.  His thick brows were drawn together, forming a conflicting crease between them, lowered so that they shaded the brilliant blue of his eyes beneath.  His lips were clamped together, evidence of his strain to hold something back.  The look made Jack uneasy and irritable.  He wanted to call the scholar out for withholding his feelings—no matter what they may be—when the younger man’s resolve broke.  Those piercing eyes flashed on him, like drills that bore through his military-trained exterior to bite deep, as his lips drew back over grit teeth and with an ire, which Jack had never known the linguist to wield, he snarled, “We brought them all back only to be given a worse fate.  Don’t stand there and tell me that we will be able to fix anything!  Our fixing only made things worse for all those that we have already loved and lost before.  Don’t tell me you can bring back Sha’uir again and fix this!  Using that _fucking_ thing was wrong and we have _nothing_ to show for it!  There is no guarantee that we made anyone’s life better!”

When the younger man had finally finished, he spun on the ball of his heel to walk away from the soldier and out of the bedroom.  Jack felt assaulted.  Like the strong words the man had used had hit him with more force than a spray of buck shot, peppering his torso and mind with penetrating wounds.  It left him feeling weak himself and lost.  The soldier wasn’t use to regretting his decisions.  He was trained to act in the heat of the moment with unwavering conviction.  Daniel had reminded him of what the military had used to strengthen his willpower, that regret was meant to be moved past and that one was meant to live on despite its grappling control on the psyche.  He had not previously regretted the decision to revert time to save Earth from the Vashen invasion—not until he had seen the destruction of Nagada, smelt the death in the air, and not until now that the scholar had declared his own remorse for his part in it. 

Chewing the inside of his mouth, he mulled over in his mind the thoughts Daniel’s concise words had provoked—again reminding the older man of how his brain and heart felt like the beaten leaves and fruit at the bottom of some fancy cocktail, bludgeoned into a pulp for someone else’s enjoyment.  What were they going to do? 

Jack unwittingly had allowed himself to do as he often did—to live in the moment.  This had allowed him to be drawn into the fantastical delusion that the two of them could find a blissful domestic happiness, raising the raven-haired cutie here on Earth—like a happy little family—as though they were not two gay men that had found comfort and love in one another’s arms in a completely different timeline, where there had no longer been a wife, and consequentially a child, attached to the archeologist.  Asinine!  It was obvious to him now that Daniel had seen the reality of the situation and that his tumultuous emotions the last twenty four hours were proof of his ability to see past the delusion to the core.  An airmen was still missing, Kawalsky and Ferreti were MIA, and a city had been leveled leaving only two survivors. 

Domestic bliss?  Who were they to even consider that they could live on without doing something…fixing the damage they had caused trying to fix the original problem…saving Earth from alien invasion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I realize that once again 'domestic bliss' has let time run away with my brain, laughing maniacally as I am left with no sense of time, completely lost in making lunches, serving meals, and the resulting poop-tastrophes that accompany the dirty task of potty training. Brought back to reality by who knows what unworldly power I see that today is not Friday but Saturday...so embarrassingly reminiscent of previous blunders.
> 
> I am sorry (as I should be lol) 
> 
> I know how hard it can be on a person to wait with bated breath for that next juicy chapter only to find that it is MIA, completely blowing off the ETA created by my longing for its satisfying read. But you have it now...please find it in your wounded hearts to forgive my loss of mind. 
> 
> XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX <3<3<3 XOXOXOOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX
> 
> I love you all for following this story! And because I do I propose a little promotion: The first person to figure out exactly how many pages the story is (based on my full word document with all my edits and my page layout) gets a free short-story gift!!!! HURRAY!!!!
> 
> DETAILS: Pretty simple. Comment your guesses at the end of this chapter and the first person to guess correctly wins 1 under 1000 word sg-1 fanficlet (its like a piglet, cute and adorable and round but less smelly) written using the winners choice of couple, and the winners choice of any three words. A challenge for you's, my lovely's, and myself. 
> 
> HUGS X KISSES,  
> ADF of the kissing2cousins trio


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh-oh! I hope adding a new chapter on Friday the 13th doesn't jinx anything!
> 
> Page Guessing Contest Winner will be revealed at the end of this chapter! Thx for everyone who guessed and to everyone else for reading this far with me! I love and greatly appreciate you all!

Daniel felt as though his blood were boiling, churning and steaming beneath his thin layer of skin, rushing around his entire system burning and scalding everything else as it went.  He raked an impatient hand back through his length of hair, annoyed that it kept falling back into his face from behind his ear, and he could feel the light layer of perspiration that had resulted from his confrontation in the bedroom with Jack.  He hadn’t meant to sound condemning, had tried to phrase his sentiments politically, but the damned soldier had stood there trying to reassure him of the impossible and…and he had lost it.  All the proper words he had tried to collect to objectively broach the subject had whistled out of head in a flash of red and his tongue had let loose everything he had tried to keep hidden in a quick ruthless incursion that had shocked even himself.

Storming out—running away—had been just as stupid.  He had left the other man stunned by his fanatical tirade and escaped.  There was nowhere to go.  There was no place to hide in the Colonel’s house.  He found himself in the kitchen, by the table, his hands suddenly around the back of one wooden chair and he took a deep cleansing breath in an attempt to find some kind of calm.  He purposely let go of the chair, stuffing one idle hand into the pocket of the baggy jeans and readjusting the glasses on the bridge of his nose with the other.  He spied the nearly full coffee he had left on the table and grabbed it.  The brew was cold as it hit his lips but he took a long swig regardless.  Coffee certainly wasn’t going to solve anything but maybe the caffeine would settle the pounding between his ears. 

Yelling at Jack was never what he wanted.  It always had left the linguist feeling like the man had gotten the better of him, and he hated that he had allowed it.  This was different.  Jack wasn’t opposing him, merely misunderstanding how to help verbally.  Daniel didn’t want to fix things.  He wanted to accept and deal with them—as he had been struggling to do the night before.  If their mistake had proven anything it was that reverting time solved nothing.  They were now in an altered timeline with new problems and new enemies to navigate.

Daniel exhaled.  The breath wheezed out of him as though his lungs were being crushed.  They burned like they were.  He needed to think past this—think past the here and now mental and emotional strain of the reality they were now living.  The archeologist heard the yapping of a small dog, followed closely by a giggle and the retriever’s deeper bark.  The reminder was succinct.  Cindel was ensnared in all of this along with him—a little girl who knew nothing of time travel and alternate realities—who was just as much at the mercy of their next decisions as he was…as Jack was.  He thought of her strength and resilience.  She had slept the night peacefully, completely at ease with her father near, Jack’s hospitality, and the distraction of a playful dog. 

Life would go on, no matter what they chose to do or how they chose to do it.  Was he willing to forget that his daughter’s happiness also hung in the balance of those decisions, as well as the fate of the planet?  Should he seek to spare his daughter more heartache and give her the childhood she deserved above and beyond anything else?  The scholar in him protested “selfishness!”, and the parent in him screamed, “yes!”.  Of course he wanted the best for his child—more so now that she had lost her mother and grandfather, her city and home, her very people—he would love more than anything to stay here with Jack and give her the life that she deserved, as any father might, but having known already the threat to the planet that lingered in the darkness of far space he wasn’t sure he could succumb to that reality completely. 

Jack’s heart and mind were in a different place than his and in some ways the Colonel was right.  Jack had struggled to give Cindel as normal an introduction to Earth as was humanly possible, going out of his way to be inviting and cheerfully acquiescent to her childish needs.  Daniel had been distant and hard, trying not to focus on what weighed on him but being unable to shift that focus to his child.  The soldier’s approach had been more appropriate.  They could focus on Cindel when they were with her and when they were not there would be time to focus on the rest.

“Daniel,” Jack’s voice was quiet and cautious.  It wasn’t a tone that the archeologist was familiar with hearing on the soldier and he whirled around to see the other man there, standing in the doorway to his own kitchen, looking for an invitation to come closer.

The younger man smiled and cleared the space between them in four long strides, placing himself so close to the other that the soldier nearly stepped away.  The scholar’s hand grabbed the Colonel’s waist, drawing them closer and he turned his head slightly to plant a soft lingering kiss on the man’s surprised mouth.  When he pulled back the sable eyes that assessed him were squinted in confusion, the brows above creased together.  The look of complete bafflement made the corner of Daniel’s mouth twitch up and then he forced it back down.  He locked eye contact with the older man and assertively enforced, “Thank you.  For everything.”

The silvered brow’s popped upwards as the soldier shrugged his shoulders and his head twitched in a manner of indifference.  “No problem.” He said, as it were an automated response. 

The archeologist moved to step away and strong hands captured him.  Looking back at the older man Daniel realized belatedly his mistake.  He relented however and allowed the other the indulgence, as their mouths met once more with more passion.  The motion was more intoxicating than the archeologist had expected and before long his hands were at the back of the other man’s head, holding their mouths together.  Jack moaned between them and suddenly their hips had gravitated towards one another.  He felt the other’s lust almost as deeply as it panged within himself and in one swift movement Jack’s grip had taken him around the middle in one arm and swung him around against the cupboard. 

The soldier’s hips ground against his own, the touch of the other’s swollen member enticing his own to react.  The Colonel’s tongue was demanding and consuming, taking what it wanted and leaving the scientist star struck and panting.  The linguist’s heart raced, the adrenalin resulting from the touching sent throughout his system along with each pulse, capable of blanking out all his other thoughts to allow his lust took over, as he felt a hand tugging at the fly of the loose jeans.  He wanted this.  He wanted Jack.  Now.

The blankness of the archeologist’s mind was filled suddenly with a shocking image, so sudden and so haunting that his body jerked in reaction to it.  It was his wife, Sha’uir.  It was her face, bronzed and flawlessly beautiful in its natural simplicity, seen in his mind’s eye as if she lay beneath him.  Half hooded lusty umber orbs were framed in fanning midnight colored lashes, her plump lips swelled from kissing, her glossy black curls pulled back from her face, tangled in the fists of his own hands.  Then those bedroom eyes, so blissful and deep, glowed a bright white and narrowed at him.  He felt Jack’s eager hands suddenly leave him, as he felt the sting of tears in his eyes.

That gentle mouth kissed the scholar’s again, the tell-tale curve of a caring smirk felt as their lips moved against one another.  He felt a hand redoing the zipper of the blue jeans and another gently brushing his hair back behind an ear, as he heard the whisper, “I understand.  Space, and time.”  Daniel swallowed, recovering from the sudden thought that had paralyzed him and brought an abrupt end to the interlude he was wanted so ravenously. 

When the archeologist opened his own eyes there they were, searching his face, those sable orbs that endlessly beguiled him.  There was something incredibly masculine about the way the soldier’s eyes were deep set and framed by thick straight brows and lashes that could pierce you straight through or melt your resolve, if you were fortunate enough to know the man well enough to see both.  That commanding stare could grip him in ways that no other ever could—take control of his thoughts and his senses and his body—all of him, all at once.  Daniel felt like he belonged within that gaze, within these arms, and inside this house.  Daniel tried to forget the interruption, like he pushed past the nightmares that plagued him relentlessly. 

Jack had pulled back enough to plainly see that the archeologist was lost within his own thoughts even as they were in one another’s arms as they were.  The quirk to the corner of his mouth grew, crinkling the dimples on either side.  “You, ugh…you know you’re perfectly welcome to borrow a pair of underwear if you don’t wanna’ go commando.” 

The linguist was lost for a moment, the residual shock of the vision dulling his normaly keen mind—then it lifted—dispelled by Jack’s humor.  Daniel’s mouth split into a shocked grin, as he felt both of the others hands go to redo the button of the jeans.  With the moment of passion now officially ended the archeologist decided to roll with the Colonel’s punches and flicked his brows, quirking his head to the side ever so slightly, as he darted his tongue out to moisten his lips and admit, “I, ugh…kind of got used to it.”

Silver brows shot straight up.  “Used to it?” Jack parroted in surprise, as his eyes squinted in a comical display of avid skepticism.  Then in a more resigned tone, a forefinger circling the loose front hem of the jeans, he explained, “Really…well,” he paused to gesture exaggeratingly, “Without any other option I suppose one might…truth be though, I might not.”  Those eyes narrowed in a far more dangerous way, as Daniel was threatened, “If you don’t wear something under these pants I may not be able to control myself and I honestly cannot be held responsible for the consequences.”

Daniel chuckled softly but the soldier steeled himself, managing to keep the dangerous look firm although the scholar felt far from being threatened.  He leaned back looking down his nose at the man that insisted on being so close, as he coyly conceded, “You’re forgetting the very important fact, Jack.  I prefer to see you under pressure.”

Jack made a discontent grunt at the back of his throat before pecking him quickly on the mouth before stepping back.  He shook a finger towards him, as he scoffed, “You would.  Just to torment me.”

Daniel gave the man a satisfied grin, as the soldiers eyes landed on the digital clock on the coffee pot and with a resigned sigh he explained that they should get going to the base.  The very mentioning of the SGC was enough to rid the room of the caring comical camaraderie that they had just shared.  Feeling like he was allowing the negativity of the previous situations to saturate his demeanor, the scholar shrugged off the thoughts and tried to focus on the here and now. 

They gathered there things together and retrieved Cindel from the Fifleman’s, after a congenial introduction to the neighbors that was hallmarked by his daughter’s exuberant laughter and the domineering yapping of a short legged weasel-built dog.  Cindel was more than excited to take another ride and they were treated to her peals of hearty belly-laughs every time Jack steered through a turn in the Dodge truck. 

It was a little surreal as a father to have his daughter with him once they were at the base.  The linguist found it incredibly oxymoronic to follow a child skipping her way down the grey military halls of the bustling SGC.  Her presence seemed to make everything lighter, simpler somehow, and Daniel was thankful for the ease that came along with watching her childish charm work over everyone around her. 

Sam was waiting for them in the briefing room, alongside General Hammond and Major Samuels.  Cindel seemed to enchant all of them, whether they wanted it or not.  Even the receding hairline of the Major, with his dark hair slicked back from his forehead, crinkled with interest as he watched the five year old jumping up each step into the room and skip towards them, her pony-tail of curls bouncing as she hummed to herself.  The General’s hard demeanor melted into an admiring grin when Cindel stopped only long enough to curtsy in front of him before pointing at Sam and without any manners demanded to know why her hair was yellow. 

Daniel shrugged and sent the Captain an apologizing smile, as he tried to reprimand the girl for her rude behavior.  Sam’s smile deterred the verbal reproof the archeologist had intended and the Captain hunched towards the girl to give a far too exact explanation that was lost on the five year old.  Her laughter at the prospect of touching the golden locks was infectious and Daniel noticed that even Jack was smiling. 

“How was your first night on Earth, Cindel?” Sam asked the girl.

“It was wonderful!” the girl cried, raising her tiny arms into the air as though she were on a ride, and rattled off everything that Jack had introduced her to.  “My tummy did flips when we ride in the Dodge and I love Farley.  He chases a ball no matter where I throw it and I ate Fruit Loops that Jack collected using the rare Tucan Sam!”  Then the girl held a hand to her mouth a whispered something else that Daniel didn’t hear.  Hearing Sam snort with laughter before she was able to stifle the laugh behind her palm was enough to make him worry.  Cindel laughed too, clapping her hands together and jumping up and down.  He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what the joke was, hoping that it wasn’t at his own expense. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it so much.” Sam finally said, standing up straight and attempting resolutely to recompose herself.

Cindel then ran over to Jack, grabbing the index fingers of his hands in her fists, as she planted her sandaled feet on his boots and pulled back ineffectually trying to move the man.  “C’mon, Jack, I want to see more.  Turn the stargate on, please!  I want to see it light up and the blue light!”

“Cindel, no, stop that please.” Daniel reproached, taking the step over to bend down and take his daughter around the waist.  He hoisted her up although she seemed reluctant to relinquish her hold on the Colonel.  Jack smiled as he peeled her iron-grip off and the scholar settled the girl onto his hip.  “We can’t do that.  The stargate is not a toy.  We only use it when we have to.”

“Well, I _have_ to see it light up again so…”

“No.” Daniel affirmed, not stirred by her protest in the least, even though everyone else in the room other than Samuels seemed to be hiding a grin behind a conveniently place hand.  Daniel look towards the General and apologized.

“It’s alright, Dr. Jackson, kids are allowed to be curious.” The General light heartedly said with a genuine smile that eased Daniel’s feelings of embarrassment.  “But we unfortunately cannot allow your daughter to sit in on the briefing.”

“Nor am I allowed, Danyel.” Came the emphatic protest from Skaara, as he came up the stairs into the large open briefing room.

The boy tipped his head in salutation to all present even though his eyes were on Jack.  If he had expected Jack to vouch for him, he had been sadly mistaken.  Jack greeted the boy but otherwise said nothing.  Daniel could see why they would not want Skaara there—he was human but he was still an alien to them and this country.  The younger man did not like it and it was clearly written on his face.  His dark brows were lowered over his almond shaped eyes and his jaw was rigidly set.  He was wearing a green military jumpsuit and his hands were clenched into fists at his sides as he joined them.

“We’ve already explained this to Skaara.” Major Samuels evidently felt the need to make that point clear.

Daniel watched his brother in laws sharp eyes dart to the other man with raking glance that made his resentment palpable.  The scholar interjected to try and diffuse the situation, grabbing the boys arm, “I’m sorry, Skaara, but they are right.    I will explain what has been decided after the meeting.  Please take Cindel for me and keep her out of trouble?”

“Take her where, Danyel?  I am restricted to one room, a few hallways, and the ICU where Granin lies dying.” The boy’s voice snapped like the cracking of a whip, full of hostility and gall.  He gestured violently back at the soldier that had silently and stoicly followed him up the stairs into the room, adding, “I cannot even piss in peace!”

The words burned Daniel as though they were caustic.  He felt terrible for Skaara, knowing that the young man’s introduction to Earth had been far from the glamorous adventure that he had always wanted, but there was little that could be done to change that.  The SGC was a military base and no civilian was going to persuade them of treating an alien any differently.  These conditions were fairly modest compared to those imposed on some of the other guests Daniel had seen the base host and the scholar knew half of that was Jack’s influence.  The scholar moistened his lips, calculating his response, when his daughter finally realized her uncle was the one making all the noise.  She had been facing the other direction, held against her father, and she twisted in his arms to see the voice she had recognized.  When her wide eyes fell on her uncle she cried out his name with such enthusiasm that it nearly wiped the grim look right off of the young man’s face.  She squirmed so suddenly and strongly that her father nearly dropped her.  She slipped out of his arms, nearly teetering over and bounded the small four or five steps to her uncle, jumping up at him, fully trusted his strong hands to catch her.

Skaara reluctantly nabbed her from falling on her face and was immediately strangled as he brought her into his embrace.  The girl managed this time to squeeze a soft chuckle out of her uncle, but as her head laid for a moment in the crock of his shoulder his black eyes moved from Jack’s face over to the General’s—they accusingly conveyed his feelings on the convenience of his niece needing to be entertained whilst the rest of them discussed what to do with him and the home he had lost.  The embrace was brief, just like the attention-span of the scholar’s curious and energetic daughter, and soon the silence that had settled amongst them was overcome with her rambling questions and excited tales of the previous night’s events.  Skaara dipped his head in an obedient but grudging manner towards his brother in law, accepting his prescribed task with marked umbrage, before little fingers demandingly turned his head to force direct eye contact.  He smiled and chuckled despite his irritation at the situation and took his leave, with the stoic soldier that guarded him trailing after in his wake. 

As the sound of his daughter’s animated voice faded down the stair well Daniel turned back to the General, offering another apology that he hoped would umbrella both the behavior of the young man and his child.  The General tipped his balding head towards him in a manner that made the scholar assume he was frustrated and at a loss as how to deal with both the youth’s that were now under the roof of his facility.  In a factual tone the older man explained, “Half of the problem isn’t the boy’s fault or our own.  The other that was brought back with you through the stargate yesterday isn’t doing well.  The doctor is not sure if he will make it and is working with him now.  No one is allowed into the ICU room he’s being treated in.  None of us our pleased with the resulting situation.”

Although it was a brief surmise of their time they had spent away from the base in the comfort of Jack’s bungalow, spent in domesticated bliss, it was potent.  As General Hammond moved to take his seat in the leather office chair at the head of the long wide briefing table that was centered in the open room the rest of them followed, drifting into the other chairs without a word spoken, grim faced and down trodden by the information. 

Daniel felt tense again, as though all the dour mood in the room was palpable enough to seep into his mind and body through his pores.  He tried to keep the mounting weight he felt crushing down on him from getting to his mind—he wanted to stay objective.  This meeting was not just another briefing, like the many that he had attended in his previous time line.  This discussion would literally decide for him what direction his second chance at this life would take and he intended to do things as right as he could. 

The General’s face was a mask of determination.  His bright eyes studied all of them, his mouth down turned into a thin grave line across the bottom of his rounded face, when he leaned forward in the chair and knit his fingers to bring his hands together in front of him over top of a few file folders.  He addressed Jack first, asking the Colonel, “So, what do we know now about this enemy that we didn’t know before?”

Jack gave a long resigned sigh and the younger man could see that his partner wasn’t ready to answer that question.  Things were different this time around.  Ferreti and Kawalsky were still unaccounted for and therefore there was no one to direct them to the symbols of Chewlak for them to go after Apophis, if that was even where their attention should be focused.  He didn’t blame the Colonel for being unprepared, he had no idea what to do either.  His thoughts were broken by Jack’s succinct response that suddenly hurled the scholar into the spot light, “Well, sir, Daniel here had a theory about that.”

Daniel tried not to appear dumbfounded in front of the many pairs of eyes that were suddenly shifting towards him, drawn by Jack’s blatant attempt to throw him under the proverbial bus.  He made a conscious effort to narrow his eyes, bringing his brows down and knitting them together as he struggled to collect a coherent thought.  He moistened his lips, noticing that the Colonel’s brows jumped a couple of times—a subtle cue that Daniel was unable to pick up on.  The linguist was floundering when Jack finally threw him a clue, looking back at the General, flashing the man a thin apologetic smile, and trying to explain in layman’s terms, “Daniel had figured that since Ra had played a God that this new bastard was doing the same thing.”

“That’s right.” Daniel got the train of thought now and took off with the prompt, as though they had rehearsed—like they should have.  “The alien Ra had taken a human host, a young Egyptian boy, and he had borrowed the Egyptian culture and religion to enslave them.  He wanted the people on Abydos to believe he was the only one.”

“But your report said that he is dead.” The General stated bluntly.  Daniel wasn’t sure if he was trying to move the discussion along or if he was confused. 

“Ho’yeah.  Absolutely.  Without question.  Gone-zo.  Six feet under.  Pushin’ up daisies.  Dead” Jack affirmed, convincingly. 

“If one had done it then there is no reason to suspect that another cannot do the same.” Daniel was trying to remember what he could say and what was going too far.  The last time they had had this discussion it was true that they had not known much about the alien race that enslave humans or where they had come from.  They also then had Ferreti who had witnessed the coordinates used to dial Apophis’ home-world, Chewlak, that he had seen when the snake god had come through the gate and taken Sha’re and Skaara.  Now they didn’t even know who had attacked Nagada or why. 

“So,” Sam said, following the train of thought, “what you’re saying is that Ra wasn’t really the last of his race afterall.”

The eyes had momentarily shifted to the blond but now they drifted back to the scientist and he gave them a confirming nod, not wanting to over step his bounds and say too much.

“Well, then where did they come from?” the gruff tone to the Texan’s voice warned Daniel of his dwindling patience.  When those stark blue eyes landed on him the archeologist’s suspicion was confirmed, feeling more like a scolding slap across the face from a parent searching for the truth.

The scientist’s tongue nervously darted out to moisten his lips as he felt more than ever that he had to somehow prove himself and his theories, only not to save his career or advance his research, but to avenge their mistake and the destruction that had come of their time manipulation.  With the stress mounting all on his shoulders he felt his mouth grow dry as his mind emptied.  All of his words and points seemed to swirl down a drain that had opened up inside of him, rushing away into nothingness, as the eyes bored into him from all directions, so very reminiscent of that day long ago in the lecture hall when he failed to convince his colleagues of his theories.  The Colonel and the scientist knew where the snake-headed god had come from, they both knew the coordinates well, but they had no means of delivering that knowledge to the General without raising at least some suspicion.  Daniel was not even sure what going to Chewlak would accomplish.  Chewlak would be teeming with Jaffa and other Goa’uld power mongers there to choose people for the hosts of their children.  Sha’re and Skaara were not there to rescue.  What would they accomplish there?  Nervous and unsure he darted a pleading glance at Jack, hoping the soldier had anymore bright ideas to move the debriefing.

Jack seemed to glean from his awkward countenance exactly what had been running through the scientist’s head, strangely visceral.  He shrugged rather dramatically and gave a wide open gesture of his upturned palms, collecting all the attention back onto himself, as he definitively turned the focus of the meeting to the cynosure of another key point.  With lowered brows over intensely set eyes, he asked the group, “Shouldn’t we ask first who it was that attacked Abydos?  It may not have been the same aliens that came through our gate.”

“The destruction on Abydos is not the concern of the American government.” Samuels was quick to callously remark.

“But it is of the military’s.” Carter countered smoothly, setting her jaw with a determined firmness that easily expressed her disrelish.

The scientist watched Jack cock his head slightly to the side, those sable orbs zeroing in on Samuels like the cross-hairs of a rifle, instantly making the man sweat.  In a steady pointed voice he reminded the Major, “Or have you forgotten that we lost two good men out there?”

“He hasn’t forgotten.” General Hammond intermediated, in tone that bore both the force of his authority and the threat of using it.  Then he turned his stark eyes on the Captain, inquiring with the blond in a softer tone, “Has the MALP provided any new information from the alien planet?”

Daniel saw the slight indent in the bottom of Sam’s lower lip, the almost imperceptible grind of her teeth bearing down, as she chose not to verbalize her response.  She shook her head instead, her eyes filling with regret, as her short and trim fingernails fidgeted with the corners of the papers before her.  The scientist felt a twinge of empathy in his gut.  He wanted to send her a reassuring look but her vision was now firmly downcast on the curling corners of the paper.

General Hammond’s eyes turned back to the Colonel and in an impassive voice he raised an open palm and remarked, “We need to conclude both threats, Colonel.”  Then he looked back towards Sam and asked, “Captain Carter, you’re confidant that the stargate will take us where we want to go with this new information?”

“Well, they are feeding the revised coordinates into the targeting computer right now.” She answered, “It will take time to calculate but it should spit out two or three destinations a month.”

The General lent forward, knitting his fingers together on the mahogany table top before him, as his gaze moved amongst them levying the weight of the decisions resting on his shoulders.  He tipped his head forward and began, in to explain his opinion on the matter, “People, let’s not fool ourselves here, this thing is both vast and dangerous and we are in so far over our heads we can barely see daylight.  We would all have been much better off if the thing had just been left in the ground.”

Sam’s face cringed, crinkling around the corners of her eyes and mouth, as she protested diplomatically, “With respect, Sir, we can’t just bury our heads in the sand.  I mean think of how much we could learn, of what we could bring back.”

The scientist recognized this dialogue.  It was eerie to hear the words playing out again, despite the changes they had made to the timeline, creating an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach like icy water.  He watched the General turn his balding head to her and volley her protest with his potent thoughts on the matter, “What you could bring back is precisely what I am afraid of, Captain.”  Then he gave a resigned sigh and unclasped his hands in a defeated gesture, as he explain the government’s orders to all of them.  “However the President of the United States happens to agree with you.”  Daniel hadn’t forgotten this discussion, although, as he listened General Hammond explain the formation of the SGC and the SG teams he did almost forget to vouch for his position on Jack’s team.  He went to speak and then stopped.  There was more to consider than there had been before.  He had a daughter now.  How was he going to work with the SGC and still raise his daughter?  Sha’re was dead not kidnapped and held prisoner by a snake in her head.  How could he expect to be a part of SG-1 in this altered timeline?  Before he could remedy the situation the Colonel was doing it for him.

“And Daniel, Sir,” he said simply, with the age old finality the Colonel always tried to pass off as a request, “he should be a part of SG-1 as well.”

The General’s mouth curled at the corner, a means of calling his subordinate on the guise used to cloak his demand, and replied curtly, “Dr. Jackson would be better suited here, working as a consultant with all the SG teams, with his expertise in ancient languages and cultures…”

The General had graciously meant to say more on the subject but Daniel could see that Jack was about to remonstrate in his favor and without any forethought he made a choice.  He leant forward and thanked the General for his proposal, accepting the position.  The piercing gaze that Jack gave him was not a glare—something crossed between outrage and disbelief.  The scientist wasn’t exactly sure the decision was what he wanted either but it seemed to be what would best for the time being, considering he had another’s life to consider.  At least he would be a part of the SGC.  It might be hard watching Jack and Sam go through the stargate…

The archeologist’s tumultuous thought process was interrupted by Samuel’s question.  “What about the child?  The little girl survived the attack.  Should we not question her and see if—?”

“Over my dead body, Major.” Jack acridly threatened, an austere look pinned on the pointy nosed man that did seem to visibly shake the soldier.  Daniel had been surprised by the outburst as well, but the Colonel wasn’t finished.  Pointing a finger at the other man and barring his teeth like a dog raising its hackles to meet a challenger, he gave a succinct explanation that the scientist could agree with.  “There is no way in hell that I am going to stand by and let the like’s of you get your grimy hands on that little girl for an interrogation.  She’s been through enough.  She may have seen something but we are going to go about asking her the right way, through her father.”

Daniel wanted to get his word in but the confrontation was heated.  Samuels recomposed himself with remarkable speed, narrowed his dark eyes and straightened his spine to look down his thin nose at the Colonel as he stiffly replied, “Who said anything about an interrogation?  I am merely suggesting—.”

The General ended the conflict with another peacekeeping order, “We will allow Dr. Jackson to question his daughter, under our instruction.” that placated both parties.  Jack and Samuels played a childish stare-off, silently conveying their animosity from across the short breadth of the table that made Sam look fairly awkward and made Daniel hide a smile.  Even for being an altered timeline some things just couldn’t be changed.

In the silence that ensued the stare down, Daniel took the opportunity to once again thank the General for his generous understanding.  Then he tried to explain what little he had learned from his daughter.  “I am afraid, however, that Cindel did not see much.”  Jack quickly ended the competition, glancing towards the scientist with mixed emotion—another cross that was harder for Daniel to decipher—surprise and possibly apprehension.  The linguist moisten his lips again, twirling a pen in the fingers of his right hand that he hadn’t realized he had picked up. 

Cindel had brought up how she had escaped the attack, the night before when he had laid her down in the guest bedroom of Jack’s home.  She had gone from ecstatically blabbering about Farley, the ride in Jack’s truck, and all the other trivial earth first’s she had experienced that evening, to somberly asking him about where mama was now that she was dead.  It had been an intensely emotional moment for the scientist.  His daughter was not crying.  She had asked the question with an extremely innocent curiosity, but Daniel had found it hard to hold back the tears.  He wasn’t sure what to tell his daughter, he had believed one thing and his wife had believed another, and in the end he just reassured Cindel that wherever she was that it was a good place and that they would eventually see her again.  That had somehow revolved into a short explanation of his daughter’s escape from the city.  “You see, in the end, Cindel had disobeyed my orders and she had snuck away from her mother in the afternoon.  She knew enough not to follow us to the temple, it was too far on foot and she didn’t know the way, so she headed to the stargate in hopes that the team would return there so she could see the gate activated again.  That was when the city was attacked.” He stopped and swallowed.

“So she seen an alien ship?” Samuels was quick to jump to conclusions.

“No,” Daniel corrected, shaking his head, “I don’t think she did.  The sand storm hit around the same time and from the mine she would not have been able to see even fifty yards.  She found Granin the next morning just outside the mine.  I’m not sure how he got there and I don’t think she knows either, but together she got him into the tunnel where the team found him.  If anyone saw anything, it would be that boy.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAGE GUESSING CONTEST WINNER!!!!! WINNER!!!! WINNER!!!
> 
> So last chapter I asked all those willing to participate to guess how many pages long the complete story was in my word doc. with all my formating in consideration. Th word count is given so it was a little bit of a clue for ya's! Thanks you to everyone who guessed! I am so excited to have awesome people like you's reading along with me as I write this fic! It really has been an adventure. I honestly did not set out to write something this long or in depth when I started this fic and now I don't know if I can stop!!!!!! Say you will keep with me guy's! For the LONG haul! XD
> 
> The PRIZE: The winner of the contest gets a minificlet, comprised of 1000 words or less, the couple of the winner's choice, and any three words. I will post this as soon as it is completed for all to enjoy!
> 
> And....  
> The...  
> Suspense...  
> Is....  
> Killing.......YOU!
> 
> The WINNER is: *drum roll* dtdtdtdtdtdtdtdtdtdtdtdtdtdtdtdtdtdtdtdtdtdtdtdtdtdtdtdtdtdtdtdtdtdtdtdtdtdtdtdttdtdtdttd...
> 
> Tada!
> 
> Firefly1311 with the guess of 131 pgs!
> 
> The actual number was a little less lol...it was--well ok, lets just be honest here, it was ALOT less--it was actually 82 pgs! 
> 
> Thank you so so so much for guessing Firefly 1311 and I can't wait to write you ficlet! ( pls comment your couple and three words here so that everyone else can see!)
> 
> I love you guys! Thanks for reading!!!!!!


	24. Chapter 24

“Dammit, Daniel,” Jack hissed, close to the younger man’s ear.  He was angry.  Things had not gone exactly as he had planned during the debriefing and a lot of the problem was the fact that the two of them didn’t make a plan before they went in there. 

For one, Jack was pissed that Daniel had opted not to be a part of SG-1.  That had never even crossed his mind.  He could understand why the man would consider not being a part of the team—he had a child now to consider—he just couldn’t imagine going through the gate on missions without the archeologist at his side.  Secondly, it aggravated him that Daniel had gotten some answers from his daughter and had not enlightened him until right there and then, with everyone else at the briefing table.  Again, communication beforehand would have been advisable.

Now, as it sat, everyone was waiting for the poor kid to pull through so they could hamper him with questions.  Finding the first missing airmen had been scrubbed for the time being—the SGC didn’t even know where she had been taken, even though Jack and Daniel did.  They would wait for Fraiser to give her report on the kid’s situation before they made any further decisions.  And right now it didn’t seem like the teen was doing all that well. 

After the meeting had broke Jack and Daniel had gone to find the kids.  Skaara was where they knew he would be, as close to his soldier as he could get.  The young leader was waiting in the empty ICU room, where Granin had been staying, desperately ignoring his niece’s pestering questions about machines and cupboards and electronics that were alien to the two of them.  Granin had yet to return from surgery, which didn’t sit well with the Colonel.  The scientist would have joined his brother in law, no doubt wanting to take his daughter off of the young man’s hands, but Jack had stopped him with a firm hand, outside the open doorway, nearly pinning him to the wall in his haste.  They had to talk.  Now.

Daniel tossed him an unimpressed glance of those blue eyes, eyebrows only half-heartedly knitting above, making Jack wonder if the archeologist was questioning his motives.  “Why the hell didn’t you tell me that Cindel had told you what she knew?” he demanded, trying to keep his voice low to not alert the two youth’s in the room.

“I just…there wasn’t the time.” He replied.

“And what about SG-1?” Jack hissed, before he even knew it.  He hadn’t meant to let that slip—not yet, not here—he knew why afterall, didn’t he?  The reason was just beyond them in the next room.

“I just…I made a decision.” The man admitted, with a defensive shrug of his shoulders.  Jack watched the adam’s apple in his throat bob, as the scientist swallowed.  In a tone slightly lower and more threatening than the latter, Daniel added, “I didn’t exactly think I had to consult you before I did.”

Jack felt his irritation skyrocket.  It wasn’t necessarily Daniel or what he had said—it was the time shift, the destruction of Abydos, and the predicament they were in right now, all rolling into one jumbled mess.  He pushed off of the wall that he had stopped the man against, giving a generous berth between them so the scientist might not notice the way his answer made his molar’s grind.  He didn’t want a fight and he sensed that the questioning was leading in that direction.  With his teeth clamped together he hoped to keep his mouth shut.

“It’s different this time, Jack.” Daniel said, pointedly, his eyes stern and his jaw set.  “It can’t be the same as last time.  Not everything.”

Jack’s mouth moved to say something he knew he’d later regret and he managed to click his teeth back together, swallowing whatever it had been.  To keep himself from angrily fidgeting he shoved his hands into the pockets of his fatigues he had changed into when they had arrived at the base.  Daniel seemed to soften, having noticed his exerted effort, and diplomatically he asked, “Can we discuss this later?”

Jack have him an appeasing nod, a mechanical movement that lacked much conviction even though he knew it was for the best.  He was a man of action—it had led to most of their fights, most of any of his fighting—he never liked to leave something for any length of time unresolved no matter how much sense it made.  Daniel left him there in the hallway, entering the room to console his brother in law.  Jack heard the peals of laughter from the man’s daughter as she attacked him. 

The Colonel sighed and retreated down the length of the cement hallway, following the lines painted on the floor with his eyes, as he mechanically made his way back to the office he had been reassigned to do his paperwork.  His mind must be bursting with crashing and colliding thoughts and emotions that he wanted to avoid. The room was stark, bare to the cement bones, and bunker-ish looking with the standard sized desk and uncomfy chair, no decor insight to lighten the mood.  Closing the door with a blind kick of his foot from behind, he went to the plain office chair and settle down into the still-new stiff seat.  The folder was already there with all the paperwork that the SGC required of their men to fill out.  He had received it yesterday and had waylaid starting it.  Now here he was and there it waited.

Shaking his head at his own inability to deal with the uncomfortable situation that was growing more strained currently, he opened the folder and drew the first sheet in the pile closer, plucking a ball point pen from the supply handily stocked in the right hand drawer.  His eyes skimmed the paper trying to focus on the task he had set before himself, the same old familiar mission report, and he scratched his head.  Something told him that it wouldn’t be that easy to fill out this time as it had so many times before.  Then again—there had been worse reports. 

Ten minutes later the Colonel found himself still there, the pen tapping the paper as he wiggled it back and forth between his first two fingers, his lip sore from chewing, and nothing at all written on the paper.  He sighed—more of groan, truthfully, with the way that it rumbled from his chest—and he ran his fingers and palm through his hair and over his head, banging his forehead on the report before him.  How many bloody reports had he pushed himself through—why was this one any different?  Why was this any harder? 

“Dammit,” he cursed out loud to himself.

His restart to SG-1 had been a failure.  Two more airmen missing, probably dead, and an entire city destroyed by an unknown threat that may or may not threaten Earth, and a lover returned with more complications than Jack could count on his fingers.  His back hurt, his knees ached, and he wondered just how much sleep he had gotten on the couch that night.  It felt fucking inadequate now and it was only—he lifted his head to look at the big 24 hour mechanical clock that hung on the wall by the door—it was only twelve hundred hours. 

There was a long low growl from within his torso, as if on cue his stomach had decided it was time to protest its lack of attention.  Fruit Loops and coffee could only tide a guy over so long.  His eyes glanced down at the paperwork once more and he pursed his lips, considering his options.  Food or report writing?  It seemed a no-brainer.

There was a knock at his door, just as he had planted his hands on the arm rests of the chair to push himself up.  He called his permission for the visitor to enter and the door opened to reveal the tall lithe frame of the blond Captain.  Carter’s mouth curled just a tad at the corner—too much and she probably would have figured she was being too feminine to impress her new CO—and she asked him something trivial and unimportant about his report writing process.  He shrugged in response for he hadn’t really been listening and he invited her to take the one chair he had to offer of the other side of the desk.  She declined, politely, and leaned her back against the open doorway instead, crossing her ankles and her arms, across her chest, generously feminine despite the plain black cotton tee.  It was weird being around her like this—young and ambitious and wary.  He had come a closeness to her in their old time line that seemed betrayed by this new relationship that it was replaced with.  It wasn’t that she was really any different now then she had been then, he was just pissed that he had to earn her friendship and trust all over again. 

“What are you going to put into the report about Kawalsky and Ferreti?” she said, in a low voice, not looking at him.

He sighed.  He didn’t want to deal with these ‘feelings’.  “I’m gonna’ put the truth.  We don’t know what happened to them, Captain.” He didn’t intent to be short with her, put the way her lips pulled into a thin line across the bottom of her pretty young face made him suspect that he had. 

“I just wish the MALP had found something, I guess.” she admitted, with a shrug.  She was now kicking the toe of her boot against the metal plate on the floor of the doorway, as she continued, “I just hate not knowing.”

“That makes two of us, Carter.” Boy, that had sounded snippy too.  He really needed to work on his bed-side manner.  He tried to get her talking to make up for his tone, offering the bait of dragging her into a conversation about the technology aforementioned.  “When are they going to check that thing again?”

“At 1400 hours.” She said, adding after a pause, “I am trying to get a UAV brought in to send through so that we can get a glimpse of the mines and the city, maybe even the pyramid.”

Jack gave her a nod.  “That sounds like a plan.”

“It’s something.” Was all she said.

There was this awkward silence that settled like a noxious gas amongst them, where he watched her avoiding eye contact with him and pensively biting the light tint of lipstick—or was it maybe that French vanilla tinted lip balm she liked—off of her bottom lip.  “Spit it out, Carter.” He ordered, too impatient and exhausted to worry about fucking bedside manner.

“Permission to speak freely, sir?”

“Yes, dammit.”

She turned her whole frame now towards him, planting her boots in the doorway firmly, and bringing her hands down in front of her to gesture as she explained, as best she could, “I’m not sure that I can reason it, but there is just something in my gut that is making my uneasy about Dr. Jackson, sir.”

“About Daniel?” he balked, trying to hide the offense that rose in his throat immediately.  He tried to placate her, “The man’s harmless.  He’s a scientist, for crying out loud, you should get along…”

“No, sir, that’s not what I meant.” She interjected, not waiting for him to finish his comment.  Her dark blue eyes caught his, holding his gaze, as she enforced, “About Daniel not being on SG-1.”  She hesitated, looking away and then back again as she struggled to find her words.  “I just—it’s crazy but…I just feel—know—that he is supposed to be on our team.”

Jack’s head cocked slightly as he considered this.  Curious and curiouser.  What was it that Sam was feeling exactly?  He couldn’t help but smile.  Was it the old friendship from the timeline prior bleeding out somehow to affect this new one?  Was this Carter absorbing her previous relationship and feelings from Daniel as though through osmosis—just being around one another?  Was that even possible?  If time travel was, then why the hell not?

The Colonel noticed that the Captain had inadvertently taken his amused smile to be cynicism and was looking terribly offended, moving to the defensive, so he stopped her in her tracks by playing along.  “I know what you mean.” He said, sitting back in the office chair.  The pen was back in his hand and he was twirling it wildly between his first two fingers again, as he added, “It just seemed wrong not having him added to the team, but, in all honesty, I can’t really blame him.”

The remark had pacified her.  She leaned back against the door frame again, hands bracing behind her this time on the jam, as her ankles crossed.  She nodded her head, although the movement seemed to be resigned.  “I just think…” she let the comment trail off, like she was reconsidering her speech, before she finished.  “Maybe you can talk to him about it.  Make sure he’s been given all of his options before he declines.”

“Will do.”

The young woman’s lips pressed together, as though she expected more from him or perhaps that she wanted to discuss the subject further and had decided it was better not to.  Then she sighed, eyes obviously lost in thought, as her cheeks puffed slightly with the expelled air she pushed out.  The force of the exhaled air lifted a fringe of her fine golden blond hair and Jack realised that her hair was a little longer than the short pixie he had last seen her with.  It fell about her oval face, framing her pinked cheeks in a soft way.  It was far more becoming than the closely clipped pixie.  As if she sensed he was studying her, her hand came up and small pointed digits drew the golden strands of hair away from the right side of her face, curling it behind her ear, making small pieces curl out and away from her face.  It was very sexy.

“Well…” she sighed, clapping her hands together before her, as if signaling an end to the awkward silence that the Colonel had just realized he had allowed to fall between himself and his subordinate.

The older soldier cleared his throat roughly and dexterously twirled the pen between his fingers before himself, as if in show, giving her a wide smile.  “Well,” he mimicked her, flicking his other hand at her in a shooing type motion.  Sarcastically, he reminded the young pretty Captain, “I do have report writing to finish, so…”

“Right.” She snapped quickly, closing her eyes as if chastising her own behaviour as she came to stand bolt upright.  She smiled widely, a thin embarrassed stretch of her mouth across her face, before she gave him a nod and turned to leave—running smack into another person. 

Carter had hit the other man so hard that the two of them stopped with a smack when they collided, pushing them both a step back from one another.  Sam was wheeling apologies when Jack recognized the victim.  The young man didn’t say anything.  His face was face was stern and unforgiving, with his small mouth tightly shut and his almond shaped eyes half hooded by lowering brows.  He gave her a curt nod, dismissing her apologies as though he could care less what she said, and then he stepped brusquely past her into Jack’s open doorway.

Jack sat forward in his chair, about to greet his friend, when the boy abruptly cut him off.  “When are we leaving this place to hunt for my people’s killer?” He demanded hotly.  The Colonel could see the intense need to act burning in the saturnine depths of the boy’s dark umber eyes.  His frustration was plain.  Jack just wasn’t sure who or what it was directed towards. 

“That hasn’t been decided—.” The Colonel was cut off a second time, by a white knuckled fist that slammed against the jam of the door.

Jack’s eyes flicked a moment from the boys flaring nostrils and grit teeth to the Captain’s concerned face just beyond, lingering in the hallway tensed and on the ready.  The Colonel didn’t believe Skaara was angry with him.  It was the situation the boy found himself in that was the point of blame.  His people were dead and gone.  His last soldier was badly wounded.  He was left unable to seek retribution by policies and government agenda’s that were alien to him.  The Colonel could easily sympathize with the boy’s pain and struggle.  But Jack seen more then that.  Skaara had sought him out for a reason and it wasn’t to rage out against him or the SGC.  “You must take me, O’Niell.” He demanded through those grit teeth, in his choppy accent. 

Jack wasn’t quite sure what that meant or how much the boy knew about the Colonel’s new command.  “Take you where?” he said, deciding it was better to play dumb and let the boy inform him of how much was known.

“You insult me!” Skaara raged, slamming his fist noisily against the jam again.

The Colonel caught his subordinate lurch forward at the violent motion, ready to spring and restrain.  He stopped her with a stern glance and she froze, closer to the boy but obedient to her CO’s command.  Her hand came out to stop the other soldier Jack had not even realised was present, Skaara’s guard.  When his eyes got back to the boy he was literally seething.  Those intense eyes bore into him and in a slow threatening voice Skaara continued, “I am not stupid.  Your General does not know what is to be done with me.  I am as human as the rest of you, no matter where I was birthed.  You will take me with you, O’Niell, when you go after my peoples’ killer!  I have no purpose here!  Give me this purpose!  Take me with you!”

Jack could understand this.  He could identify with the boys tumultuous anger and blinding sorrow.  The soldier nodded his head and the boy seemed to soften.  That answer to his burning question helped him to regain his composure, regain control.  His heels clicked together and he straightened his spine, lifting his hand in a formal salute.  “Thank you, O’Niell.” He said soberly.

“I will do my best, Skaara.” Was all the Colonel could promise and he meant it.

The boy turned and left, just about as abruptly as he had appeared.  He did not knock into Carter this time, although he brushed past her, agitated by the reappearance of his SGC shadow.  Jack was not alone.  Sam came back to the doorway, leaning against the outside with her elbow braced against the jam.  Her face was intensely concerned.  Her light colored brows were knit together over wide blue eyes, mouth slightly agape.  “What was that?”

“It was what it sounded like.” Jack retorted, looking at her condescendingly, “The kid is pissed and who can blame him.  His home was annihilated while he showed us some crumby temple.  All he wants is a chance to do something about it.”

“Like revenge?” she suggested, bluntly.  She made it clear what she thought of the incident.  “Are you sure you want to allow him to do that?”

“He’s an adult, Carter, he can make his own decisions.” He reminded her.  He lifted his hands and he callously admitted, “And ya’ know, what?  I kinda’ want revenge for what happened back there too.  Those people did not deserve to die.”

“I didn’t…” she cut herself off, clamping her teeth back together.  Her head lowered as she downcast her eyes to the floor and sighed.  She didn’t like it but she didn’t know Skaara.  She seen a raging young man, crazed by guilt and sorrow enough to do anything and that made her uneasy.  Jack felt he knew the boy better.  He would vouch for Skaara.

The disagreement had come to a stale mate here.  Sam wanted to convey more but obviously looked as though she felt he had painted her into a corner—which he purposely had.  This was ended by the sudden reverberant blare and flashing lights of the base’s warning system.  Jack was on his feet in an instant, waiting for the announcement.  A mechanical sounding voice began to blare over the speaker system, “emergency, emergency, Level 18, Room 18-22,” and Jack all but leapt over the desk to get out the door.  He raced for the elevator, Carter on his heels, wishing at that moment that the time shift had at least restored some of his youthful vigor.

The elevator was slower than he ever remembered and he impatiently cursed the cables pull as his boots tapped, waiting for the car to stop and the doors to reopen on Level 18.  His heart was pounding, pumping blood between his temples to the beat of the fear that was repetitively flashing in his mind.  18-22 was Daniel’s office. He had to get to Daniel. 


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Canada Day and Fourth of JULY!

The elevator car lurched to a stop and his hands were at the doors as they opened trying to push them out of his way so he could squeeze through faster.  As the Coloonel raced down the hallway, knowing exactly where he was going, he was joined by other military personal all summoned by the emergency warning system that suddenly stopped.  Around the next corner was the office door, swarmed by a mob of soldiers that now had stopped in confusion, milling.  Jack pushed through them, noticing that Carter was still behind him.  He could hear indistinct voices talking from inside the office, when he finally broke through and came through the familiar doorway into an empty looking room, with a desk and chair, a computer on a transportable cart, and a bare bookshelf. 

The Colonel’s heart was still pounding, racing to figure out what the emergency was, when his eyes finally found the younger man.  Daniel was standing in the middle of the room, speaking with Colonel Makepeace.  The archeologist had his hands raised as his explanation came to an abrupt halt when he realized Jack was there.  Robert Makepeace gave his comrade an aggravated glance, stepping away from Daniel to approach him.  With brows lowered over severe looking eyes, the other Colonel stopped only long enough to grumble, “Civilians…” before he left the room.  His brusque departure was followed by the sounds of the crowd being dispersed by means of a less than appropriate explanation.

Jack rolled his eyes and when they lowered they found Daniel.  The other man’s shoulders drooped and his face was slightly flushed.  Jack wondered what Makepeace had said to leave the scientist looking this berated.  He came towards Daniel, wanting to comfort his lover, and he took the man’s firm biceps in his hands, asking, “You okay?”  His lover didn’t seem to want the attention, his blue eyes looking past Jack—oh, yes, Carter was still there—and the scientist nearly tumbled over when he tried to step away from the Colonel, tripping over his daughter’s toes. 

The little girl yelped and Daniel spun to collect her into his arms.  One hand rubbed the little bird’s back as her father apologized for the blunder and settled her on that spot on his hip she always sat in.  Once pacified the man came to stand abreast of the Colonel, greeting both the soldiers with a sheepish “Hello,” and another apology.  In the melee he had not seen the cowering form of the little bird clutching to the back of her father’s legs, red with guilt and the fear of Makepeace’s wrathful punishment.

Carter came to stand in front of both the men, crossing her arms over her chest.  She smiled at the little girl before looking at her father and gently inquiring, “Is everything alright, Dr. Jackson?”

“Yes,” the archeologist immediately responded with finality.  He obviously was embarrassed and resistant to explaining the awkward situation again.  Instead he quickly corrected the Captain, “please, Sam, call me Daniel.”

“Right,” she agreed with a nod and pursed lips.  Watching her made Jack wonder why the heck she was having trouble with remembering that.  He didn’t really recall her having an issue with it last time—was it proper to refer to the time before the shift now as ‘last time’?

The Colonel wasn’t about to let his lover bypass him.  With a cock of his head towards the younger man he drew the others attention.  “What happened, Daniel?” he said firmly, hands now buried once more in his pant pockets.

“Well, little hands are curious.” The archeologist began in a soft tone accompanied by a slight shrug of his shoulders before he was suddenly cut off by a now chipper voice.

“I pushed the big red button.” Cindel admitted, boastingly.  Jack was amused by the girl’s ability to change moods like the flip of a switch.  Makepeace was gone and suddenly she was her old confident self again—perhaps she felt punishment could be waylaid now that the punisher had gone.

“I took my eyes off of her for a second, I swear, and then the whole marine core was descending upon us.  I couldn’t stop it.” He tried to explain in his own defense, sounded irritated with both his daughter and the soldiers.

Sam made a sympathetic clucking sound with her tongue and reached out a hand to gently rub her peer’s forearm—which Jack jealously thought was inappropriate.  “You can’t stop it from here.” She said, “It’s okay.  As long as no one was hurt it will be just fine.  Those guys need a wake-up call now and then anyway.”  As she finished the last sentence her hand left Daniel’s arm and came to pinch Cindel’s knee, making her squeal and squirm.  Her little hands left her father’s neck and she reached out towards Jack, nearly leaping like a cat right out of Daniel’s arms.  Almost dropping the spritely girl the Colonel managed to catch her.  She refused to be put down, jumping back up at him when her sandaled feet touched the cement.  With a resigned sigh he lifted her up into his arms.

The Colonel was hit with a strange sense of nostalgia having a child in his arms in this manner, which left him feeling eerily uneasy.  She was reminiscent of her son in some ways but drew no direct parallels by any means.  Perhaps it was more so the fact that he had deep down always knew that after losing Charlie he would never have a child again to hold that this gesture seemed to contradict.

Daniel seemed to be glad to have her busy with someone else for the moment, easily being drawn into casual conversation with Sam.  Jack heard something about Daniel’s new consultant position and something else about food, when Cindel exuberantly pointed a finger at the door, which almost nailed him in the beak, and exclaimed, “I’m hungry!  Can we have pizza, Jack?”

“Cindel,” Daniel reproached his daughter, giving her a severe look.  He shook a finger at her and reminded her to use her manners, to which she then rephrased her request, inserting the correct English and Abydonian words in order to overcompensate for her father’s request. 

Sam chuckled behind her hand and Jack sighed.  “Yes, little ma’am.” He said, turning to leave.  Over his shoulder he called back to his lover, “Don’t have too much fun without us.”

Daniel didn’t say anything as the two of them left.  Jack heard Carter talking again and he tried to remember if he had ever seen her so interested in Daniel before.  He then and there suddenly realized that he was jealous of the pretty young astrophysicist and that made him angry.  Being upset with the little girl in his arms however wasn’t possible.  As they rounded the corner and the elevator came into view she squealed and squirmed again, slipping out of his arms of her own volition.  When her sandals hit the cement she took off, running straight through the doors.  Her little fingers began punching buttons, punctuated by her laughter as they lit up.  Jack was meandering the rest of the way towards her when suddenly the doors began to close.  He leapt forward and jammed an arm through the slit between the closing doors just in time.  The rubber edging between the sliding doors closed on his arm, pinching slightly before the sensor kicked in that something was blocking them.  They retracted and he stepped through, calling down affectionately, “You little turd." to the mischievous smile that greeted him.

Together they made their way to the cafeteria and upon entering all eyes present gathered on the small girl, taking in her hysterical antics and tangible excitement.  She squealed at each item laid out on the little plastic plates on the buffet-like tables, pizza, meatloaf, meatballs, burgers, and chicken breast, egg sandwiches, pita wraps, and salads, brownies, pie, cookies, and—those cobalt orbs stopped and grew wide.  The little girl became silent, sucking in a sharp breath, as she stood up on her tip-toes to get a closer look at the opaque lime green cubes of jell-o that quivered in the small dishes before her, nestled on top of the bed of ice in the buffet tables tray.

“Wow…” she breathed the word, whispering something else that seemed to Jack to be Abydonian.

Little curious fingers reached out, ready to poke the jiggling gem-like substance that glistened under the cafeteria’s fluorescent lighting, catching the attention of a hair-net topped worker from behind the buffet table who lurched forward to defend their perfectly plated dessert.  The Colonel reached down and scooped up a dish that he deposited into the eager hands of the little girl, who quivered with excitement and let an awed gasp escape her mouth.  She stared wide eyed at the wiggling cubes before her and then loudly, cried, “Thank you!”

Her little feet began to wheel and she darted to the nearest table, nearly dropping the dish as she plunked it on top and jumped into the seat of the plastic chair.  Jack grabbed the little girl a spoon and a plate with a slice of pizza, just in case she hadn’t forgot the reason why they had come.  He noticed that the cafeteria attendant was now smiling fondly, watching the child try to eat the slippery dessert with her fingers.  He decided to grab himself a slice of pizza and some pumpkin pie, before joining Cindel at the table. 

“Bonewai!” she declared around a mouthful of green shimmering gelatin.

The Colonel smiled at her palpable exhilaration.  He forgot about writing reports and dealing with Skaara and Daniel as he watched the little bird chirp her excitement over sampling each and every wonderful food the cafeteria boasted.  Jack was surprised the kid could stomach more than a grown man, wondering where in the hell she was putting it all, when a loud announcement over the intercom system called him to the briefing room.

Cindel seemed to understand the message as well, jumping from her chair to her feet as he stood, little fingers snatching whatever she could stuff into her mouth.  Cheeks bulging she followed him from the wonders of the great military cafeteria back to the large briefing room, where they found the General, her father, the Major, and Sam waiting for them. 

Jack took a seat after helping the little bird into a chair beside her father, looking from the General and Major Davis to Sam, who stood beside a computer monitor on a transportable cart.  The pretty blond Captain smiled at the girl, who was still trying to chew and swallow the last large mouthful, encouraged along by her frustrated father in low Abydonian.  The General’s eyes seemed to narrow on the child and Jack suspected the Texan was calculating the risk of having this discussion in her presence.  Major Davis did not seem to see the issue with this and the severe looking man launched the conversation with a quick assessment of the new development.

Jack only understood half of what the man said.  The Major referenced far too many government acronyms and scientific terminology for the airmen to keep up.  Lost the Colonel turned away from the slick-haired man to Sam, raising his brows and opening his hands at her in a baffled gesture that begged for concise clarification.  She responded with a thin smile, amused by his silent plea but not looking as though she really wanted to bare the news herself. 

The Captain clicked a button on the remote in her hand and the monitor beside her came to life, bringing up an image that looked strangely like a video game.  There was a square grid out laid in green on a black background, sporting two different size round dots, one red and the other green.  She pointed an index finger at the smaller red dot, talking a whole bunch more about technical mumbo-jumbo, of which he understood only this: the massive green dot was Earth’s moon and the tiny red dot was some kind of unidentified mass that NASA’S radar technicians had found about three hours ago. 

Thoughts began to run unrestricted through his mind.  Space ship, aliens, invasion…

“It appeared and then disappeared without any warning.” The captain continued, explaining how their radars had picked the object up only for a few seconds before losing it again.  They had no idea what it was, only what it was not.  “I suspect that it is some kind of alien space craft—.”

Davis wouldn’t let her finish.  Brusquely he cut her off, irritably claiming, “There is no evidence of the object being any such thing.  The object disappeared so quickly that many of the technicians feel that it was just a blip in the system, brought on by…” more mumbo-jumbo that Jack understood to basically be space junk, from their own previous space explorations. 

Carter made a pensive face that spoke to Jack of her avid disagreement with such a head-in-the-sand theory.  Her blue orbs darted to Jack and he felt suddenly put on the spot without a clue what to say.  Raising his eyebrows in confusion he looked to the General who gave a long frustrated sigh.  The Texan leaned forward in his chair and slowly asked his subordinate, “On your previous mission through the stargate would there be any evidence that the object could indeed be some kind of alien space craft, Colonel?”

Sam bit her lip, eyes eagerly assessing her CO with hope, as Daniel leaned forward in his chair and pointedly interjected, “I have already expressed my evidence for this being possible, but I am just a civilian consultant.”

Jack got the hint.  He leaned back in his chair and shrugged, unsure why he had to remind the General and Major Davis of his Abydos report.  “We know that Ra had a space ship.”

“This would be much smaller than what your report outlined Ra’s vessel to be.” Sam clarified, her lips moving into that thin line again.

Major Davis scoffed at her answer, opening and closing his hands, as he openly contradicted her theory.  “It is the opinion of many officials that the radar technicians theory is more accurate and that this thing is not a concern.  We should be focusing our interest on the new stargate addresses--.”

“Technicians whose theory is based on the fact that they have no knowledge of the existence of alien life, sir.” Carter assertively corrected.  She received a royal glare for her efforts from down the pointed nose of the Major and the General ended the stale mate with a gruff clearing of his throat.

“The President is inclined to go along with the Major’s proposal but he has left the final decision to myself.” Hammond explained, in a slow methodical tone.  His stark blue eyes were trained on Jack, making the Colonel feel as if he were becoming the deciding factor in what he felt ill-equipped to decide.  “Therefore it is undecided whether we focus the SGC’s attention on this radar blip or on the new missions through the stargate.  What I want to know, Colonel, before I make this decision is if, in your experienced opinion, that blip really could be an alien space craft?”

Jack sided with his two team mates.  “Yes, sir,” he said, with an emphatic nod, “I do.”

“Then it is decided.” The Texan drawled, much to Davis’ ire.  “I will put Captain Carter in charge of the radar technicians and SGC personnel that will be studying the anomaly further.” He turned to the pretty Captain, who tried to hide the triumphant grin on her face, and cautioned her, “I can only give you until the computer comes up with its first new gate address to look into this further, Captain.  At which time this theory will be scrapped for SG-1 to make its first recognisance mission.”

Sam gave a pronounced nod of her head and Hammond then dismissed them all.  The Colonel turned to look across at his partner, as the other dispersed.  The archeologist was pensive, lost in thought, ignoring even his daughters bored flapping of her skirt.  Jack cleared his throat to try and break the man of his trance when the fast paced click of familiar heels interrupted his action.  He glanced over his shoulder to see that the good doctor had stopped the General by his office door, speaking quickly and quietly to the Texan.  Her face bore bad news and Jack didn’t have to guess what it was.  The kid hadn’t made it.

Daniel took the news better than Jack had anticipated.  It was Skaara that was causing the problem.  After Fraiser had delivered the news she had asked that Daniel go to his brother in law.  They found the young Abydonian confined to his quarters, where it was explained in short that he had become irate with the passing of the youth and had posed a threat to the nursing staff. 

Daniel went into the room and the Colonel remained outside with the little bird and the guard on duty, discussing exactly what had transpired.  Apparently a couple of chairs had been kicked and that warranted subduing the alien.  It was hard not to chew the young arrogant airman out, when unintelligible shouts from within the room alerted Jack to Daniel’s hasty retreat.

Jack didn’t have to ask, but Cindel did.  “What is wrong with Uncle Skaara, Daddy?”

Daniel bit his lip and repressed a groan of frustration.  His back was pressed to the grey steel of the closed door behind him.  His head tilted back to rest on the metal, his hand still gripped the round knob.  The archeologist managed to answer his daughter, “He’s just very upset.  Granin has…”

“Died. I know, Daddy.” She said simply, in a sombre tone that surprised everyone present, including the young airmen on guard.  “Just like Mama and the others.”

“That’s right.” Daniel affirmed in a thin voice that sounded like it might break. 

“That’s okay,” the little bird said, nodding her head, as she reached out and took her father’s hand from the door knob and wrapped her little fingers around his.  “I am sad too.”

Jack was proud of her.  She had come a long way from the inconsolable broken child he had found at the mines of Ra.  Daniel seemed to see that too and Jack thought he saw the man take encouragement from his daughter’s strength. 

Shortly after they were given leave from the base.  Skaara had refused to see anyone and so the three of them had made it back to Jack’s house without the little bird’s uncle.  It was later than they had intended and Daniel was visibly annoyed by the cheap noisy McDonald’s toy that his daughter now coveted.  It was decided that bedtime was at hand pretty much as soon as they had arrived at the house.  The little girl would have none of it until Farley had been returned to her, then she happily went about the business of preparing for bed.  She fell asleep promptly, comforted by the warm animal snuggled in the blankets with her. 

Jack had gone about his regular chores around the house to occupy the short time Daniel was busy with the little girl and indeed he had not accomplished much.  The kitchen had been swept, the breakfast dishes earlier neglected were now washed and back in the cupboard, and he had managed to go through the junk mail that had been delivered that day, finding nothing of interest except for flyers and business advertisements.  Spying a furnace cleaning ad his mind began to wonder when it was that he had last had the ducts done.  He considered having it done again when the sound of soft footsteps proceeding the gentle click of a door closing roused him to anticipate his comrades’ approach.

Daniel did not acquiesce.  The footsteps faded into another room, another door shut, and then there was silence.  Jack tried to stifle the immediate offense that rose within him, like the hackles of a defensive dog.  It would be too much to expect Daniel to seek the older soldier out just because he was there waiting to be sought.  The archeologist had no notion of the Colonel’s predisposed need for his company and closeness and there was no reason for Jack to protest otherwise.  Daniel had a right to be tired and to seek the natural space and security provided by slumber after a long day that had proven to disappointingly lead to more questions and hardships rather than answers.    

Jack needed a distraction and after he had he had milled about aimlessly looking for something to eat in his empty kitchen, he found it waiting by the back door.  The soldier had forgot about it in the progress of their evening since retrieving Farley from the Fifleman’s.  He bent over and picked up the parcel, bringing the Target shopping bag wrapped bundle to his kitchen table to inspect its contents.

Kathy had outdone herself.  Inside he found a gift basket of sorts filled with all the quintessential paraphernalia any big-box retailer would have on its shelves for little girls.  The Disney princess plastered pink and gold fabric laundry basket was stuffed to the nines with pink hello kitty t-shirts, rainbow colored leggings, frilly lace skirts, a Dora Jacket, a pink-camo zippered sweater (Jack realised and fully appreciated knowing that Kathy had tossed this in there just to suit him), pink and purple sparkling hair ties, toothbrush and brush, a pack of wonder woman little girl panties  with matching pyjama’s, and even an enormous Hello Kitty plush blanket, that sported a matching stuffed pillow and the white little stuffed cat herself.  When the airman had finally finished unloading everything his kitchen table looked like it had barfed up a half ate rainbow colored unicorn. 

There were pinks and purples of every description scattered from one corner to the other, even draping down to the floor as if it were spreading by its own volition, seeking to color over the neutral tones of his home.  He sighed, wondering how he had ever gotten into this predicament, somewhat ill from all the frills and lace that were now surrounding him on all sides. The soldier asked himself if Charlie had been a girl how would he have handled it?  Did little girl’s really need all of this junk?  The ginch was a bonus, he wouldn’t argue with that, but he had never for an instant imagined that his humble abode, easy and simple from rafters to bed sheets, would look so darn pretty.  In his mind’s eye he tried to imagine how his spare bedroom would look with hot pink Hello Kitty curtains, comforter, and pillow shams, with a frilly shade atop a sparkly lamp on the nightstand, or with all the cute little outfits that Kathy had purchased for the raven haired cutie to wear in the closet.  The Colonel reminded himself that he had signed up for this.  If he wanted Daniel than he could not refuse the little bird—not that he would dream of trying too—and that meant accepting all the changes that little girl’s would bring to his house, his décor, and to himself.

Sara would laugh if she seen him now, standing in front of a table laden with lace, beads, and sparkling rhinestones.  There would be no trucks and dinky cars, no rocks or bugs in the pockets of blue jeans, and no pee on the toilet seat as he had experienced in raising his son.  There was the hope though that there would be baseball—the girl did have one hell of an arm after all. 

He was being ridiculous. 

The soldier stuffed everything back into the extra-large Target shopping bag and sat it on the seat of one of the chairs at the table for the little bird to chirp over in the morning.  Then he grabbed a beer from the fridge—one of the few things occupying the empty shelves of the door besides a few cheese slices—and marched into the living room with a mission.  He would find as manly a distraction on the television as humanly possible and watch it until he fell asleep on the couch.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ^_^
> 
> Yeah for summer! Send me a cheer if you like the warmer weather! 
> 
> <3<3<3

 

Chapter 26

 

Daniel’s arms felt prickly, as his biceps tensed with the pulsing motion that he made over Teal’c’s heart.  He used his weight to thrust the heel of his knitted hands down on the left side of his friend’s chest, keeping a steady rhythm but losing count as the blood rushed between his temples, leaving him slightly dizzy and a little nauseous.  He could hear Sam’s frenzied shouts, could see her hands gripping the sides of their comrade’s face as she tried to rouse the Jaffa. 

The Major was hysterical.  Teal’c had pushed her down when the last set of laser shots were fired at them and he had taken a direct hit.  The laser-like beam had cut straight through the left side of his chest, leaving a gushing hole that was nearly clean straight through him.  He had died saving her.

Daniel could see Jack’s tense face, glancing back at the three of them from where he kept trying to defend their position.  Now and then he would turn back and fire off more rounds that staved off the alien guards that pursued them.  The archeologist could see that note of understanding ice over his lover’s normally clear vision, even as he refused to stop trying. 

Sam bent over their friend, quivering fingers raised to gently close the lids of the white eyes that had stared blankly up at them.  She was shaking with her effort to control the sobs that quaked within her and Daniel could see the wetness of the tears that she had shed.  His pace slowed.  He felt the warmth of liquid brimming against his own lashes, blurring his vision.  His hands felt numb.  He stopped pumping.

Daniel felt himself come to, a slow cognisant waking from the dream, as though his mind had realized the true nature of the vision and ended it.  His eyes opened and he felt the tickling trickle of the warm tears escaping his lashes, rolling away towards his temples.  His blurry vision assessed his surroundings with a mechanical procedure, noting the ceiling fan, the stippling, and the light from the window casting its shadows over each, as being Jack’s—Jack’s house. 

The archeologist was lying flat on his back, one arm draped over his chest and the other flung back onto the pillow just behind his head.  The blankets were still on the bed and still covered most of him, he had fared much better than the previous night.  This nightmare had not left him shaking and breathless although he felt inside that it was just as painful.  He wanted to remind himself that these events had yet to pass in this timeline—that his friends were still alive and well here—but the memories were burned into, still just as blindingly painful as they had been to witness then. 

Teal’c had died saving his love—saving her.  A hero, one might regard.  Sam had come to meet a much worse fate at the hands of the same ruthless enemy and the linguist often considered that Teal’c would have been better off to haven let that shot kill her—quick and painless in comparison to the torturous experiments performed on her while she was still alive.

The linguist lay still there for a long time.  He contemplated why now these nightmares had returned.  It was true that he had fought with them and staved them off from time to time, but having them two nights in a row made the pain of their reoccurrence that much harder to endure.  He sighed.  There were many reasons.  It did not take a psychologist to come up with a theory.  

Daniel thought of his dead friend.  He wished now more than ever that he knew where Teal’c was and if the Jaffa was still alive in this new altered timeline.  Was the large stoic man still serving his God obediently but grudgingly, waiting for the day when defiant Tauri’s would appear out of nowhere to give him the courage to defy his false god and free his people from their servitude?  Or had another pushed the First Prime to already attempt a rebellion, rousing his friends and comrades to arms against Apophis?  Was he dead?  Murdered for being a shova?  The scientist missed his friend.  Teal’c had always been the steadfast anchor that held the group at bay, lending his knowledge, his trust, and his loyalty to Earth’s cause, knowing it would in turn benefit his own.  He missed that solemn strength beside him now.  That hand on his shoulder that silently offered strength and support, in whatever form was needed.

A part of him wanted to take the mission through to Chewlak and bring their comrade back to them.  It was a fool-hearty wish, which was based on little fact and could cause more harm than good though.  There were too many factors, too many variables, too many risks.  Perhaps in time it could be arranged, the coordinates ‘found’.  Daniel would have to miss his friend until then.

The scientist rubbed his hands in a cleansing manner over his face.  It was a dissatisfying result.  He could feel a sheen of cool sweat on his forehead and cheeks that rubbing could not rid him of.  He pulled back the duvet, still on him despite his nightmare, and went to the ensuite.  He took a piss and after washing his hands he splashed some of the cool running water onto his face.  It was a welcomed shock.  He felt his nipples harden as goosebumps lit on his skin.  His blind hands found a towel and wiping the cold water away he assessed his countenance in the mirror. Nothing much had changed.  

There was a grumble from his midsection and he frowned.  It had not been his idea to eat at McDonald’s but he sure was feeling the consequences of fast food on a system well attuned to a rustic alien diet.  The first bite into the Big Mac Jack had insisted on ordering for him was a little bit like a kid eating a jelly-filled donut for the first time—he ended up with big mac sauce on his shirt and a mouth full of delish, juicy, hamburger.  Then about half-way through his stomach began to complain that his eyes were too big for his dessert cuisine conditioned stomach and that the juicy burger was really just greasy.  Now his belly was complaining of a slightly different problem—the half ate McDonald’s meal was through his system and it wanted more. 

The linguist came out of the bathroom and his eyes found the numbers on the digital clock, but were unable to read them.  He stepped closer to the night stand, the blurred red digits becoming clear enough to read even before he had gotten the spectacles on his nose.  It was just after midnight.  He had been asleep for less than a couple of hours and yet surprisingly he felt quite renewed.  It must have been the cold water.

The archeologist had gone to bed nude, becoming conditioned to that Abydonian habit as well as the food, and so he donned the flannel pyjama bottoms he had borrowed from Jack the night before.  He had thought about underwear and then had dismissed it.  A wicked grin curling the corners of his mouth as he recalled Jack’s half-serious plea that was now going unanswered.  The pants were enough.

The bedroom door opened to allow in the sounds of television beyond, quieter than Daniel had anticipated Jack’s patience to allow.  He padded quietly out into the hallway, lit softly by the ambient light from the living room beyond.  He made a momentary stop at his daughter’s door, comforted by the sounds of her slumber and knowing that her friend was snuggled into bed to be at her side.  He came down the hallway and veered into the kitchen to grab himself a drink of water, before softly ambling towards the cut out in the dining room that over looked the living room to spy on his host, drawn by the curious sounds coming from the television.

The linguist hadn’t known the Colonel to not watch much more than hockey and the Simpson’s, perhaps the occasional snippet of the local news.  His movie repertoire was even less pronounced, owing to his cinematic cynicism, and the man was notorious for willingly agreeing to watch Discover Channel at the scientist’s request only to notoriously fall asleep half-way through the program.  As Daniel recalled the first documentary that the soldier had submitted himself to he found himself whimsically flushing.  Jack had only done it because the erection in his pants was speaking louder than the complaints registering in his brain, over powering his distaste for trying to understand the mating rituals of the playful Madagascar lemurs for the sex-craving closeness sitting next to one another on the archeologist’s single couch allotted.  It was part of the reason why Daniel had found himself lowering his guard around the other man enough to allow Jack to demonstrate his secret affections.  It had been a startling revelation that the scientist now relished remembering. 

Jack was determined, if nothing else.  He was a man of action.  When he wanted something not even the other parties inhibitions could stand in his way of attaining it.  Daniel had enjoyed the lust-driven interlude in the moment but was overcome by regret and the overwhelming pressure of his own undealt with pain from his wife’s passing to accept what the man was offering afterward.  Jack had taught him through his own perseverance that some things were worth waiting for and Daniel cherished that acceptance during the beginning of their new relations. 

Seeing the man now, prostrate and snoring on the love seat with an empty beer still in one hand and the remote clutched in the other, as a rerun of MacGyver played on the unwatched flat screen, Daniel recalled how watching television together had never been the same after that first fateful introduction.  Having the reminder there before him he stopped and admired the man, leaning down with his elbows on the sill of the cut out as he had the night before.  He smiled.  The man’s rhythmic snoring was soothing and familiar, giving him that much appreciated sense of belonging again, which seemed to ease the tension resulting from the day’s activities and his nightmares.   For once the only thing on his mind was Jack.

Daniel came to join the soldier in the living room and the man was roused by his gently applied pressure to squish over.  Snorting awake the other man didn’t have to look to know who was asking for permission to join him and Daniel settle into the space made when Jack sat up on the love seat.  The first word out of the man’s mouth wasn’t a greeting.  “Beer?” he asked, lifting his empty bottle and gesturing towards the kitchen.

Daniel declined with a shake of his head and a curve to his lips, lifting his glass of water to indicate that he was just fine with what he had.  Jack grumbled and repositioned himself back into the corner of the cushions, stretching his legs out to settle on the top of the nearby coffee table, as he looked at Daniel with half-hooded eyes and complained, “Damn.  Beer always makes you more receptive to my advances.”

The scientist rolled his eyes and dryly retorted, “Why do you think I declined?”

“Mm-hmm.” Was the only reply.  The sable eyes left Daniel’s face to dart towards the television which was still playing before them on the wall and the controller in his hand.  His eyebrows bobbed upwards in disbelief, as the soldier suddenly realised what was on. 

“Ah-man, not this guy…” he grumbled, wiping a disbelieving hand over his face.  When the soldier’s hand came down he thrust it open palmed at the eighties television star, whose name was now immortally incorporated into the English language and used more often as a verb instead of a noun.  “He’s an idealistic moron.  He claims to hate guns and yet in almost every episode he has a new chick on his arm that he saved from certain death by blowing the bad guys up with home-made bombs.”

A smirk crinkled Daniel’s eyes as he watched the mullet-maned actor flash that winning smile at the girl, who accordingly melted with an eighties flutter of over teased hair—speaking of teasing, the scientist nudged his counterpart in the ribs with his elbow.  “You’re just jealous that he can wear long hair better than you.”

“Am not.” Was the bristled automatic response.  Daniel eyed the other man skeptically.  When the soldier noticed he made a conciliatory shrug and added, “At least he roots for the Flames.”

The linguist chuckled and rolled his eyes again.  It was just like Jack to allow his opinion of a person’s character to be swayed by hockey.  He took a sip of his water, his gaze returning to the television.  They were quiet for a while, becoming absorbed in the explosive-ridden plot line.  Daniel hadn’t really watched much television—it didn’t really keep his interest long enough for him to justify investing himself in watching a whole season.  His parents had always been on the move, there was no time for television when he was little, and their emphasis had always been on history and books.  It was an ideal that he had always carried with him, especially through foster care and university.  When he did submit to watching something it was usually a documentary, it was always interesting to learn something new, or hockey game, a compromise to appease Jack.  He did not compromise for the Simpson’s.

Jack cleared his throat and shifted his position, drawing the archeologist’s attention away from the flat screen for a momentary glance.  The pinched face, lips firm and brows knit, caught the scientist off guard.  It was a telltale sign that the man was holding something back.  Their eyes met and Jack looked away cursing, knowing there was no escaping an explanation now.  Daniel reached out a reassuring hand to pat his partner’s knee and smiled encouragingly.  The soldier gave an exasperated sigh, sounding more like a caged animal than a Colonel, and ran a hand back through his silvered crop.  “Well, I suppose now’s as good a time as any—I just don’t know, Daniel, how it’s going to work…” he hesitated, finding the words to clarify, “you not being on the team.”

“We will have to make it work.” Daniel said calmly, shifting his position so that he was turned more towards the other man beside him.

“Carter feels it too.” Jack blurted.

Daniel’s brows shot up.  This was curious.  He began to mentally ascertain what this kind of a surreal connection amongst them and their old loved ones might mean and how it could affect the time shift itself, when the soldier’s hand reached out to take his chin.  His head was turned by the other’s grip, none to gently, so that their eyes met once more.  Those sable orbs were intensely trained on him as the Colonel continued, explaining plainly, “I understand why you made the decision.  I really do, Daniel, but—“

Daniel moved to interject a protest but Jack raised a finger and silenced him with an effective, “Ahht!” The linguist closed his mouth, sealing his lips together to demonstrate his willing understanding, and Jack sat back, letting go of his chin.  The silvered head dropped, resting in a supporting palm, as Jack stared at the empty beer on the coffee table.  Slowly he began to try to explain his apprehension, “I just don’t know if I can go out there without you.”

The linguist froze.  The words had hit him, more powerful and swift than Jack’s right hook had back in the temple, leaving the younger man stunned and at a loss for words.  Those sable eyes were on him, steadfast, watching and waiting for him to respond.  Daniel couldn’t.  He didn’t know what to say.  In his mind he knew that a part of him could have never stopped loving this man, no matter the time or space that separated them.  Another part however had shut down and shut out—defensively guarding the heart that was still bleeding for his wife and the people he had come to consider as much his own as he had Earth.  He wanted Jack’s affections—wanted his mouth and his body—but these other parts of him screamed that he wasn’t ready! 

Daniel had not had time to sort through his pain and his loss since the tragic events on Abydos.  He wished now that he had—why hadn’t he tried to sort this through?—as Jack’s mouth parted ever so slightly and the soldier attacked him with a passion that demanded attention.  The linguist closed his eyes, allowing the commanding mouth that pressed against his own, seeking entry, to part his lips.  He felt the tip of Jack’s tongue delve inside his mouth only to retreat after, pulling back to assert its efforts along edge of his own bottom lip, as strong hands pushed him back down over the arm of the short love seat. 

A warm body slid on top of his own, eager hands roaming his person, rough fingers tangled in his hair, none to gentle as they worked to hold his head firm for the mouth that feverishly kissed his own, as the other pushed his thigh out to allow more room for the soldiers hips between his own.  Daniel felt the press of his lover’s stiff erection straining against the fly of his jeans as their hips ground together.  The archeologist was also aware of his own hardened member, twitching with pleasure within the soft flannel pants, thoroughly enticed by the touching and kissing.  His body wanted this—wanted Jack.  Here.  Now. 

Daniel moaned into the persistent mouth of his lover, as he made a conscious effort to block out the memories, the guilt, the pressure of responsibility, loyalty , and fear that had controlled him these last twenty four hours—giving complete control over to the other man and their mutual desire.  The linguist rocked his hips against his lover’s erection, the pressure of their hard members rubbing against one another making him moan once again.  Jack’s fingers tightened their grip against his skull, forcing his head back and his mouth away.  Daniel felt the wet tickle of the other man’s rough tongue lapping and kissing a trail from the corner of his jawline to the meeting of his collarbones.  He felt the other hand slip into the waist of the flannel bottoms, thumb massaging agonizing close to his erection without meeting, teasing and tempting.  The kisses continued south, stopping to flick and bite each nipple in turn, before the fingers let lose his hair.  In one smooth motion Jack had sat back, both hands used to pull the pants down enough to expose him fully. 

The archeologist opened his eyes just long enough to see the flame of desire that burned in the sable eyes of the Colonel atop him.  The lusting mouth parted, his tongue flicking out to lick the thin lips before his head delved down and Daniel felt himself taken inside.  His eyes closed again, forced shut by the rapturous heat of the other man’s mouth.  He gasped as the tip of the Colonel’s tongue worked in rhythm with his lips, sliding up and down the length of his shaft as Daniel rocked in and out of his mouth. 

It had not been all that long since Jack had last taken him—yet the sensation of his pleasuring was reminiscent of their first encounter.  Perhaps it was the love seat they were spread out on or the television absently playing in the background—it didn’t take long for the orgasm to rock his senses, Jack’s hand devilishly pumping him as his frame twitched with the pleasurable spasms.   Daniel felt that same warm mouth pressing against his lips, fingers gently worked to pull the flannel bottoms back up, and he cupped the man’s head in his hands, holding the mouth to his own as he reciprocated his passion and desire for the soldier. 

The mouth parted, kissing his cheek as it moved towards his ear, where he heard the soldier ask in husky voice, “Did you like that?”

Daniel moistened his lips, wanting to will himself to say what he felt, to say “yes!”  All he could managed however was a nod, his mouth was dry and his breaths were still panting.  He felt Jack’s large hands gently pushing the hair back from his face and he opened his eyes to look up at the man that stared down at him adoringly.  A thought ran suddenly through his mind— _why me?  Why this man?  What have I done to deserve him?_ —and his questions were stifled by the sudden grapple of the man’s arms around his chest, as he was hauled bodily up from the love seat and onto his feet. 

The archeologist fought off a wave of vertigo that sent his vision spinning, as he readjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose.  The movement had been rough and now Jack was slightly behind him, legs parted and arms crossed over his chest in an imposing stance.  As Daniel tried to assess the meaning of the sudden change in attitude he felt a sharp smack against his ass and then Jack sharply barked, “Go to my room.”  The soldier said it without cracking a grin but the archeologist seen the joke for what it was.  Daniel didn’t play this game—he never had and he never would.

Smugly the scientist crossed his own arms and took a defiant stance.  He shrugged and tipped his head towards the soldier, teasing dryly, “I don’t take orders, Colonel.”

“You say that now,” was all Jack said before he wrangled the younger man around the waist and hoisted him up and over his shoulder.

Daniel was shocked by Jack’s gull but he didn’t struggle—he was more worried about the soldier dropping him as he climbed the steps out of the living room to take the chance.  He allowed the other man to carry him like a sack to the bedroom, where he was unceremoniously thrown—not placed—onto the queen mattress.  The bedframe creaked a loud complaint to the sudden violent deposit and groaned more when Jack jumped on top of his lover.  The joking was over as their mouths met again, fevered and insistent.  The younger man grabbed at the hem of the dark tee the other wore, yanking it up and over his head, as Jack undid his belt and worked open the fly of the jeans.

They both froze when the shrill angry barks of Farley broke the silence of the house, followed by a terrified scream.  Daniel was racing from the room before he even realized he had gotten to his feet.  Jack was in front of him.  They burst into the darkness of the spare bedroom to find the retriever loudly yapping and jumping at the window.  Farley bolted for the door once the light had alerted him that it was open, a deep guttural growl rumbling from the animal, as it sped down the hallway and into the entry beyond. 

Daniel was frozen by the fear and confusion that had taken control of his system and suddenly he realized that his whimpering daughter was in his lover’s arms.  The archeologist was struck by the sight of Jack holding the girl to his chest, of how his hands consolingly rubbed her back.  He was amazed to see how she in turn clung to the Colonel. 

Jack’s eyes met his and with a jerk of his head he motioned to the back entrance of the house, where Farley was still barking loudly.  Daniel nodded at the older man, acknowledging his request.  He stepped forward and kissed the dark curly crown of his daughter’s head, before he left the room to join the dog at the back door.

The archeologist had little experience with dogs—it was part of the reason why he had not been especially keen on Jack’s desire to have one.  It didn’t take a dog expert however to assess that the animal was hysterical.  Daniel had never seen a dog behave more aggressively.  The retriever was barking and snapping, jumping at the window of the back door, in a matter that one might assume a guard dog used to fend off an intruder.  Assessing this however did not give him any assurance as for what to do about it.  He tried talking to the animal, calling his name and asking him to sit, but the ears were laid back against the animals skull, unresponsive to him.  Unable to listen to the irate retriever any longer and more than a little uneasy with the aggressive behaviour Daniel tried to open the door. 

As soon as his hand had gripped the round knob of the door, Farley’s muzzle had dropped to the floor, growling.  The animal waited for the door to open, nudging the crack wider with his nose until he could fit through.  Then he took off, running to the back of the yard, barking as he went.  Daniel watched the animal, concerned.  What had sent the dog into such a fevered state?  The dark form of the retriever was barely visible in the darkness outside, just a shadow running along the back length of the wooden fence, until it came to a stop at the back corner.  Crouched low ready to strike Farley barked and leapt at the wooden paneling, as if he meant to clamber over and give chase. 

It was then that Daniel saw it.  Saw something.  A pale oval shape in the shadowed trees and brush beyond the chest high wood planks—a face.  He stepped through the doorway and out onto the cement pad, his body registering the striking coolness on his bare feet but not his mind.  The shape moved, receding into the blackness beyond it, as if it were swallowed by the inky shadows.  Farley’s bark began to subside and soon the animal was returning from the fence, whining in a whimpering tone that made the hair rise on the back of the scholar’s neck.

Daniel rubbed his eyes, admonishing his own imagination as his mind filled in the blanks formed by the chilling incident—it was all in his head, a trick of his eyes exaggerated by his own exhaustion and the trauma of past days. 

“Must have been a squirrel,” Jack’s voice said from behind him.  Daniel turned and shrugged at the soldier that stood in the open doorway.  Cindel was still in his arms.  The girl’s head was laid on his shoulder, tucked in towards his neck, and her little arms were curled between their two bodies.  Her blue eyes looked weary and when she spied her father the little back bolted up straight.  Her small arms stretched out towards him in a silent plea.  The scholar stepped in and took the girl under the arms.  Jack transferred the girl to him and they swapped places, the soldier moving out into the yard as he retreated with his daughter back into the house. 

The man rubbed his daughter’s back, as he felt her body squirm to wriggle as close to him as possible.  He could hear Jack talking with his pet outside even as he took Cindel back to the bedroom.  He sat with her on the bed, noticing that the blankets were missing.  The dog’s barking must have scared her awake.  He pulled her little body away from himself and she reluctantly allowed him too, her lip jutting out to prove it. 

 Softly he spoke to her in their Abydonian tongue, inquiring if she was okay.  The little girl gave an unconvincing nod, as she began to sniffle again.  Daniel was shocked by her behaviour.  He had never seen her act like this—never seen her afraid like this before.  Cindel had always been strong spirited, proven time and time again by her resilient stubbornness and her persistent disobedience, both controlled by her avid curiosity.  She was not one to shrink back and cower, even in the face of a punishment well deserved or of the unknown.  This put Daniel on edge.

He spoke to her again, softly pushing to know what had happened.  He did not expect the answer.  “I saw Mama.” She said in a tentative voice that wavered through the Abydonian words, “She was in the window.”


	27. Chapter 27

 

“That’s just a little creepy.”

Daniel wasn’t impressed with Jack’s comment.  It was irrelevant and unhelpful, not to mention a little rude.  It had come as a shock to the scholar first to hear his daughter confess that she had seen her mother outside the window before Farley had begun his tyrannical barking.  Now that he had the time to digest her story he could understand the incident a little better. 

Thus far Cindel had proven to be nearly immune to dealing with the pain and loss that she had faced over the last couple of days, aided by the distraction of her sudden introduction to gate travel, her father’s planet, and to the charms of the golden retriever.  Perhaps this was the beginning of the process for her, a waking nightmare centered around the loss of her mother. 

The girl had been physically shaken and distraught, eventually coaxed back into slumber only after the return of her newly claimed pet to her side.  The fact that Farley had taken part in this incident was hard to explain but even Jack had admitted that the dog was known to chase squirrels outside from the confines of the house—so not altogether improbable.

Daniel thought of what his daughter had told him, of how she had explained she had seen her mother in beautiful silk gowns, with her hair drawn back to display a golden crown, her every digit adorned with jewels of every shape and color.  Cindel had never seen such grandeur in her life and had yet to be fooled into believing it was real by cartoons and fairy tales.  It was curious how the mind worked.  What was more surprising is why this would have scared her—upset her, yes, he could see that.  Yet she had been visibly afraid, which his mind told him was no doubt being woke from her slumber by the dog’s barking. 

The scholar also refrained from mentioning to his lover that he too had thought he had seen a face beyond the fence.  It had obviously been a trick of the mind, created by his unease after watching Farley go ballistic in the house.  Jack would tease him for being susceptible to his daughter’s terror, which was the furthest from the truth.

Daniel shot the man an irritated glare and reminded the soldier that he too was concerned about the incident, even if it had been the result of nightmare and a squirrel.  Jack sent him a smirk in response and leaned across to peck a soft kiss against his mouth.  Then he lingered in that position, looking for an invitation.  The scholar appreciated the man’s thoughtfulness.  He kissed the mouth back obligingly and Jack attacked again, taking the opportunity presented in earnest.

The linguist laid back on the bed they had sat side by side on and allowed the soldier to straddle his hips.  More kissing ensued and soon they were both naked, stripped in a lust driven fever that made both men forget the incident.  For the next hour they focused only on each other, moving together as one to the mutual pleasure of one another’s orgasms.  When they finished the two lay together in the queen sized bed and Daniel fell asleep to the rhythmic breathing of his partner, once again by his side.

Daniel slept right through Jack’s early morning exit from the bed.  By the time he came to it was to the aroma of coffee coming from the kitchen and the sound of his daughter’s laughter.  He glanced at the digital clock to check the time but couldn’t make out the numbers until he had rolled closer.  It was 6:30.  They were expected back at the base at 0800.  He yawned into a hand and then grabbed his glasses.

When he was dressed and ready for the day he followed the delightful aroma of the coffee to the kitchen, where he found Jack standing at the sink.  The other man wasn’t doing the dishes.  He leaned forward, legs spread and hips braced on the counter’s edge, eyes cast out the window where Daniel heard the sounds of his daughter calling after Farley and Tobey to chase her.  Seeing the other man standing there he remembered their love making from the night before—the memories sending a thrill and a warmth throughout him that he wasn’t accustomed too. 

Jack wasn’t wearing anything out of his normal range of black and jeans.  He looked like he hadn’t even taken a brush to his silvered crop of hair, but there was something overwhelmingly arousing about seeing him there.  The other seemed unaware of his presence and so the scholar took the moment to allow his eyes the pleasure of lingering on the form he found so centripetal in nature this morning.

The soldier had not lost his muscular build in the years that he had been retired—since they had been together last—and the linguist often wondered what he had done in that time to keep himself so fit.  Jack spoke often of retiring to his cabin on the lake in his beloved Minnesota back country but Daniel didn’t believe for a minute that fishing and drinking beer by the lake had kept Jack trim.  The Colonel was not an idle man and there was a part of the scientist that knew the other would have found it hard to relax permanently.  Being active was as much a part of the man’s nature as was his acute sense of sarcasm.  His mind wanted to wonder longer, but there was another part of the linguist that drove him to action.

Daniel closed the distance between them in three commanding strides and when he stepped up behind the Colonel he planted his feet on either side of the other man’s.  He took a hold of Jack’s hips and ground his growing erection against the others backside, loving how the muscles in the other’s back tensed and then relaxed into the embrace.  The scientist rested his chin on the other shoulder, pressing his lips gently against the nape of the Colonel’s unshaved neck, before nipping gently at the skin with his teeth.  His hands roamed the other direction, both sliding open palmed over the hem of the jeans, the button, and the length of the fly that bulged with the rising shape of the other’s cock inside.

Jack, for the most part, had remained still.  His body had relaxed into the arms of his lover behind him, a bemused smile spread across his face.  Then, infuriatingly, the man brought one hand and placed it on his hip, as the other brought his coffee cup to his mouth.  He took a long casual slurp from the mug and just to aggravate the linguist’s attempt at enticing him.  Daniel frowned and dropped his hands, taking a generous step backwards to settle his ass against the stove.

The Colonel kept his stance and managed another long drought of the coffee in the cup before he finally turned to face his offended lover.  The wicked grin plastered on the man’s rough face was intoxicating—banishing all the rebukes his teasing had conjured, by forcing even more blood to flow south, which in itself was even more irritating.  Of course his prick would side with sex over the possibility of an argument, which always seemed to be the scale that Jack’s teasing danced across. 

“Good morning,” the Colonel said, with a flick of his silver eyebrows.  After a pause in which Daniel chose to refrain from speaking the man continued, lifting his mug as he added, “If only I had known how a pot of good coffee could get you going in the morning, I’d a bought the expensive stuff years ago.”

Daniel adjusted the glasses on his nose and then trailed the hand back through his hair.  He shrugged and tried to side step the other man to get to the coffee, as he admitted, “It wasn’t the coffee that did it.  That’s just an added bonus.”  As his hand reached for a mug on the tree beside the pot, the soldier stepped in his way.  The other man’s body inserted into his step so suddenly that the scientist was stopped abruptly, their bodies uncomfortably close—making his cock twitch even before the other man’s hand had come down to grope him suggestively. 

“A bonus better than this?” Jack’s voice was husky when he asked, filled with the silent threat of being challenged.

Daniel tried to grimace his distaste, but it came out like more a smirk—his body too turned on to react as his mind intended.  He then moved to step away and his ass was capture in the other firm arm, as Jack intoned, “You can’t move or I’ll spill this expensive erotic coffee all over you.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Daniel grunted, acting unimpressed—even though his cock throbbed for more under the other man’s pleasing ministrations. 

The scientist did not want to relent to the soldier’s pleasure now that his own had been teasingly rejected—it was something like what Jack would call ‘surrender’, which would give the damned joker the upper hand.  Yet his prick was ready and willing, especially after the night of surrender the two of them had shared the night before.  This kind of banter and playful animosity was shockingly nostalgic to Daniel—reminding him of the relationship he had the pleasure of obtaining with this man years earlier.  It was real this connection that they had.  It was tangible.  Ensnared in the other man’s arms he felt a sense of peace and calm and belonging, like his being here now was the refitting of a jumbled puzzle that had once been beautiful—nearly whole again.  The scientist relaxed into the embrace and when he tilted his head back it hit the other man’s shoulder, settling into place.  Jack grinned wickedly, knowing full well what he had won, and when he leant forward to press their mouths together Daniel kissed the man back.  This was more than just lust or passion.  This was theirs.  This was wholly theirs.

“Daddy?” came the questioning call of his daughter’s voice. 

The scientist started, coffee spilled, and the two men were separated in a flash of uncoordinated limbs and movements.  The little voice had not been calling in a manner of wishing to locate her father, but rather very distinctly with the question of determining what it was that her father was doing.  Daniel knew his face was red, he could feel the heat radiating from his cheeks, as his wide guilty eyes located the small face pressed against the screen of the patio doors that opened up to the deck beyond.  The door was slid open but the screen had remained and she was starring right at them, in full sight no doubt of everything else that had been going on moments earlier.  The scientist felt Jack silently moving away and then returning to mop up the spilled brew from the ceramic tiled floor near his feet, as he dug his hands into the pockets of the jeans.

“Yes, Cindel, I’m here.” He said finally.  “What do you need?”

“Kathy,” the little girl began and then stopped.  She hesitated a mere moment and then switched to speaking in the Abydonian tongue, finishing with, “there is food waiting.  Come and eat with me.”

“Nafi,” Daniel said, nodding his agreement.  The little girl’s blue eyes flashed from her father to the man turned away from her behind him, lingering their intently.  There was a short yap from outside and the girl turned around, scampering away. 

The archeologist let go the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding in and turned back to the light hearted face of his lover, who shrugged, offering an unconvincing, “Oops.”  Daniel chuckled despite his adverse feelings about the incident.  It was hard not to, facing that mischievous smile.

Daniel tried to glare but was not successful.  Instead he turned away from the infuriatingly sexy narrowing of the others eyes and the quirk to the corner of his mouth.  He went to the screen door, where his little daughter had departed and watched after her, as she scampered across the yard to the neighbors.  Suddenly he realized she wasn’t wearing the dress her mother had made her.  The cream and blue colored home spun fabric had been replaced with the shockingly vivid hot pink of a romper style jump suit that sported a smiling dark skinned animated girl, with big brown eyes and dark mushroom cut hair.

“Dora the Explorer.” Came Jack’s succinct and yet still vague explanation, “It’s apparently all the rage these days.”

“You?” Daniel asked, as he watched his active little girl running with the dogs in the other yard and realized she wasn’t wearing her sandals either.  Those had been replaced with a pair of purple sparkling runners, with lights that flickered for every step she took, fascinating both her and the two canines that chased her.

“Hell no.” Jack scoffed. “I wouldn’t be caught dead buying pink frilly stuff.”

Daniel glanced askance at the soldier who balked and then admitted, “I mean, I would if I had too obviously.”  Then as if he had forgot he suddenly mentioned, “Kathy bought it.  In truth I think she bought out the entire kids section.  Cindel and I went through it all this morning.  Did the whole ‘ooo’ and ‘awe’ thing and then organized it by color and category in the closet.”

Daniel’s brows knit together in bafflement.  “What time were the two of you up this morning?” he asked, incredulously.

Jack shrugged his shoulders and looked skyward as he tried to remember.  “Oh, the usual I would think.” He said, his eyes falling on Daniel once more as he answered, “Five thirty or so.  Had the rest of the Fruit Loops out on the deck and went through the mountain of pink and purple together.”

Daniel smiled.  He still had a hard time believing that Jack, a highly decorated Air Force Colonel, had spent his morning organizing a five year old girl’s wardrobe.  Recognizing this for the feat that it was Daniel thanked his lover warmly.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong.” The older man defended, as he walked past Daniel out the screen door on to the patio beyond, “I was held against my will.  It was slave labor.  She held Hello Kitty to my head the entire time and threatened to make me cute if I didn’t comply.”

Daniel just smiled and followed the Colonel to the neighbors for breakfast.

***

“We haven’t found much,” Sam admitted, sighing in frustration, as she raked her blond bangs back from forehead. 

“We just don’t have the technology to search beyond…”

“Beyond what we have already ascertained.” She finished for him, pursing her lips together as her eyes skimmed over the plethora of papers and monitors in front of her on the long metal desk.  Daniel had run into her on his way to the cafeteria for a late lunch and after she had asked him for his opinion they had ended up eating in her lab.  She had poured over the information that had been sent to her from the radar technicians, explaining that she had decline having any of them join her to spare her more time to work on the project.  She couldn’t wait for them to join her.  The bases computer would no doubt spit out its first stargate address within the next three days, which would put an end to her investigation permanently. 

“I just know that this wasn’t a blip.” She mused for the fifth time since the archeologist had joined her.  She was thumbing her bottom lip, her teeth working the nail now and then, as she thought.  They were leaned forward onto the tall metal table that served as the Captain’s desk and workbench, in front of three computer monitors and several large scale maps of earth’s satellite monitored space, including a topographical map of the moon’s surface and a list of all the satellite’s currently in orbit.  Daniel had learned more in the last two hours about Earth’s space exploration and monitoring program than he had gleaned from his work with the SGC prior.

The archeologist had enjoyed working closely with the Captain.  They had eaten their salad and pita wraps intermittently, while piling over the charts and radar telemetry and flipped through the maps and satellite data.  Brain storming between mouthfuls of falafel and jelly filled donuts hadn’t gotten them any answers but they had made some headway.  They had been able to prove that it wasn’t a system error or failure.  The blip was real.  They just couldn’t explain what it was and why it had disappeared seconds after being picked up.

“If Ra had a huge mothership it certainly couldn’t be out of the realm of possibility for there to be the technology to have smaller space traveling vessels.” She surmised, as she leaned bodily over the charts on the desk, supported by her elbows.

Daniel leaned down on the table next to her.  “I can agree with that statement.” He said.  He knew that this was true but he had no means of proving that.  To be safe he simply pushed her in the right direction, agreeing with her own conclusions that were supported by his knowledge.  He wasn’t sure if this blip was a goa’uld tel’tak.  The snake-heads were really too arrogant to send a scout before showing up guns blazing with a mothership and a sworm of gliders.  The problem was he really had no idea who the ship could belong to, if it was a ship, and Earth really didn’t have any means of ascertaining that identification either.  It put the planet and the SGC in an uneasy predicament.

If Sam ran out of time SG-1 would be sent to the first planet that the bases computer spits out—P3X 593, Simarka.  Daniel glanced at his friend’s concentrating countenance, wondering how she would deal with the repression of the Shovadai’s women this time around and how Jack would fare trying to navigate the culture of the Mongolian people there without his ability to translate and explain their customs.  He couldn’t expect himself to accompany SG-1.  Gate travel wasn’t possible for him now, not while his daughter remained behind.  There were too many dangers and risks that could separate them.  That wouldn’t be fair, especially after everything she had already been put through.

“Well, well,” called a familiar voice, breaking the silence of their concentration and sounding a little than perturbed, “don’t you two look busy.”

“We trying, sir,” Sam said innocently, looking more guilty for not having solved the mystery of the blip rather than what Daniel knew Jack’s comment had intended. 

“I’m bored.” Jack announced, coming to stand by the work bench Sam’s paperwork occupied, with his hands shoved into the pockets of his fatigues.

“Why does that not surprise me?” Daniel retorted, readjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose as he gave his lover a teasing half-smile.

Jack’s lips pressed together into a patronizing line across the bottom of his face that would have been a grin if he had been at all amused by the comment.  His eyes glanced over the rolls of paper and charts on the workbench and the scientist could see recognition focus in the depths of those sable orbs.  Jack probably knew more than he did.  Jack pointed at the chart that mapped out earth’s satellites and all but grunted the question, “Find anything yet?”

“Not yet.” Was Sam’s optimistic reply.  She gestured at the map and then took of explaining to her CO what the two of them had been busy doing and the few results that they had acquired in that time.  Jack listened with only half an ear as the pretty young Captain rambled on.  His attention was distracted partially by the maps and charts before him and the by Daniel himself.  He darted furtive glances from the paperwork to his lover, looking both bemused and exasperated.  The archeologist found the attention intriguing—quite possibly because there was another person present.

Daniel felt as though he was ready and willing to accept everything that Jack wanted to give him and all that he wanted in reciprocation, by entering back into this other part of their relationship.  There was only one reason to be cautious—Cindel—and he hadn’t thought much on what he was going to do about that.  After the incident in the kitchen this morning, where Daniel hoped to hell that his little girl was still innocent enough not to have interpreted what exactly the two of them had been doing, he was happy to accept the invitation from the Fifelman’s who had generously asked to watch the girl while they did the dirty work of sorting out their new lives.  The archeologist wasn’t sure what that should have all entailed at that moment but he understood now that Cindel needed to be separated from the SGC and the work that he would be doing there. 

The child was still just that—a child—and she deserved a normal upbringing despite the fact that her father was part of a ground-breaking government-ran research program.  She would need to start school here on Earth and she would need to be watched over by someone else while he was away, which made his acceptance of the consulting position instead of a team member that much easier to work with.  As a consultant his job would run along the lines of a similar 9-5 white collar job, where he could for the most part be expected home at the same time each day and have the weekends to concentrate on his little girl and her transition into American society—which he already expected may not be a simple task.  He was lucky enough to have shared partially in little Cassandra’s adjustments to life on Earth and had witnessed firsthand the struggle that Sam had endured trying to separate her desire to be with the girl and her duty to her country and team.  It was why Janet had been a far more suited foster-mother for the child.  As a medical doctor she kept a regular shift change that worked better for finding suitable care for the child when she was away.  That lent hope to Daniel’s cause, that he could do both.  Perhaps not in the same capacity as he had before but in a new one that suited that suited his needs and those of growing child.  Skaara was another matter.

The archeologist had not spent much time thinking about how to help his heart-broken brother in law.  Skaara had not been married on Abydos although Daniel knew that he had soiled many girl’s chances of a successful engagement with his powerful influences.  Skaara had refused even the thought of marriage.  He found women distracting.  His goal was much larger.  In a sense he was married to his militia and to the protection of his people.  His cause was his entire focus after Ra had been vanquished and not finding the need to exercise his men’s power in the years of peace that followed had led to the secret tinkering with the stargate that had landed Jack and Daniel back in hot water. 

The scholar had gone to see his brother in law once they had arrived, sans one little child, at the base.  Skaara was still confined to his quarters due to the incident the day before and he had not seemed happy to have a visitor.  The boy begrudgingly bade him to enter and Daniel sat across from the sulking young man at the small round table in the middle of the one room quarters, wondering what to say first.  The boy must have seen his apprehension and finally spoke, admitting something that Daniel had not expected to here from the youth. 

It was an apology.  The scientist was a little startled but accepted that his brother in law was remorseful for acting out against the people he now realized he needed to unite with.  They spoke of their destroyed home, of the masses that they had dually lost, of the family that had perished, and of the goal that they both now faced.  Daniel was not a man that could be persuaded to seek revenge for the sole purpose of making those that had inflicted harm to him suffer in turn at his hand.  Skaara seemed to understand that this wasn’t the way and that such an endeavor would not benefit his future or that of his new home.  He seen now more than ever the need for prevention and protection and that he could play a key role in that operation—that his skills and knowledge could be put to good use.  The apology was to square away the mistakes that he had made in the last few days that would hinder his progression into that role.

Daniel had respected this from his brother in law.  It showed much maturity on the youth’s part.  It avidly demonstrated that he had learned to live and see outside out his own microcosm, beyond Nagada and its people, to the protection of a galaxy from a foe that threatened a plethora of races.  Daniel had agreed to the boy’s request, to speak to the General about adding the youth to his army and cause, to use his knowledge and skills to the betterment of the SGC and Earth.  He had yet to find the right time to do so, but seeing Jack reminded him that he needed to and that the Colonel could help.

After Sam had finished battering her bored CO with her open aired brain storming—which was mostly filled with her own rambling thoughts and ideas, as Jack did not seem particularly interested in joining—Daniel excused himself from her lab.  Jack followed suit.  They found themselves walking together the short distance to the elevator that would take them to level 18 and Daniel’s office.  The scientist intended to broach the subject of forming a united front for Skaara’s cause in said elevator but his partner had other ideas. 

The minute that the doors closed and Daniel’s thumb had found the right button, Jack had pressed his lover into the corner of the small cubicle and had planted a breathless kiss against his lips.  He had tried to protest but a firm forearm had blocked any means, pressing tightly against his chest and right shoulder.  The archeologist finally broke the interlude by turning his head, which the soldier only used to his advantage.  A tongue lapped at the turn of his jaw bone and up to the lobe of his ear, the hot breath more stimulating than the younger man wanted to admit. 

“Stop.” He managed to get out.  The word had little effect, nulled by the way it escaped his lips as a gasping moan.

Jack chuckled against his ear, as his kissing became more sensual.  And then the elevator binged.  Jack was across the cubicle a respectable distance when the doors slid open, leaving Daniel in the corner, out of breath and sporting a fairly obvious lump in his fatigues.  The soldier didn’t spare him a look.  He maddeningly stuffed his hands into his pockets and walked casually from the elevator, whistling Dixie as he went on his way.  It took the scientist a moment to recompose himself and shift his belt to hide the problem below it.  He had to jump with an out stretched arm to stop the doors from closing him inside, before he was able to make his way to his office, cursing the other man as he went. 

The door was open when he found the familiar room.  Jack was sitting in his office chair, eyes eagerly waiting for his arrival.  There was a wicked grin on his mouth that he hadn’t the proper manner to hide, only fueling the archeologist’s irritation.  They had more important things to worry about and curtly he reminded the man of the fact.

“Sure.” Was all the soldier said.

Daniel took the only other chair in the room and pushed it up to the other side of his bare desk, sitting down as though he might be entering a legal debate with the man on the other side.  He was serious.  There were more important things to deal with other than their dicks.  Jack’s sable orbs seemed to watch him, absorbing the way that he sat down with intent, the way he knit his fingers together, and that he demanded eye contact.  The soldier’s reaction was less than satisfying.

Jack let his head fall back and he exuded a heavy grating sigh, over exaggerated and provoking.  When he finally finished and brought his eyes back to allow direct contact with Daniel, he said, “Let’s get this over with.”

“Look, Jack, my intention here as a consultant instead of a member of SG-1 is the right one.” He said firmly, in a calm assertive tone that lacked any room for interjections.  “I have thought about it and I have convinced myself that it is what is best for Cindel, for the SGC, and for us.  I must make room for all three in my life and although you are important to me and SG-1 is as well, I need to make concessions for my daughter.”

Jack’s hand came up in a flash, an opened palm gesture that interjected as much as his voice.  “Daniel,” he said forcefully, hesitating to lick his thin lips before he continued.  “I refuse to come between you and Cindel.  Ever.  Period.”

“I understand that, Jack.  Thank you.” The archeologist replied with a small but warm smile that seemed to alleviate some of the soldier’s sudden tension.  “I am not talking about us or about Cindel.  I am talking about SG-1.  It can’t be the same.  I cannot be on the team.  If we both realize that than we need to discuss what will be the next best alternative.”

Jack’s eyes narrowed with recognition, as he suggested, “You mean Skaara.”

“Yes.”

Jack’s thumb pressed against his bottom lip as his eyes turned away and he mulled this over.  When he turned back that open hand gestured down at the desk, as Jack laid out the facts they had to consider.  Skaara was available.  Teal’c was not—for now.  If they convinced the General to allow the boy to join SG-1 would they team work with three members or should another to replace Daniel’s role be found?  Perhaps Rothman—no, Jack couldn’t bare the snotty nosed, driveling, scientist—perhaps they could find another? 

“I’m not sure we need a fourth member—“

“I’m not sure you realize how difficult it will be for SG-1 if you do not have some kind of leading authority on cultures and languages.” Daniel wasn’t about to listen to that protest from his lover—it was actually a little insulting to hear him belittle his most influential SG-1 contributions.  Ending that train of Jack’s thoughts Daniel quickly amended another by suggesting, “You will also need someone level headed—“

“Carter’s level headed.” Was the interrupted response.  Followed immediately after by a very unapologetic smirk, that made the soldier’s cheeks dimple—irritatingly arousing.

“Sam is but—“

“It’s always the butts with you.” Jack chided teasingly.

The archeologist shot the other man an annoyed glare, making sure that he tipped his head down just enough so that the look hit him from over the top rim of his specs.  Jack pressed his lips together, as though he had gotten the less than subtle hint.  Daniel had his doubts.  With the ensuing break in the banter, the scientist continued the interrupted point he had been trying to make.  He tried to casually slip back into his speech pattern but felt his tone came across more lecturing than he had intended, as he informed the Colonel of the fact that the young Captain was still his subordinate and therefore could not effectively temper her CO’s shot-to-kill reaction when threatened. 

Jack made to defend himself against the blatant criticism but his lover expected that knee-jerk reaction as well and cut him off, efficiently adding in time, “Skaara won’t be able to fill this role either.  He does know how to speak Goa’uld, as the Abydonian dialect is a derivative, but due to being sheltered by slavery he would have a hard time adjusting to other customs willingly—similar to how you struggled with the idea during our early gate travel.”  He paused, thumbing his bottom lip as he mentally went through the names and qualifications of many of his colleagues and academic acquaintances.  He managed to see that tightening of Jack’s jaw that gave away his intention to interpose and he raised his finger to stop him.  His lover begrudgingly conceded, lifting his hands in a manner of gesture that looked as though he were going to give up—which Daniel would have preferred, seeing there was no need for teasing and lover’s banter here in this discussion.  The other man allowed him one more thought spoken aloud, “Steven is belligerently selfish and Sarah is too…too much trouble.  Professor Jordan would be optimal—his dignity, character, and loyalty to the natural order of cultures and races would align perfectly with the teams dynamics—“

“I am not taking that old man out into the field, Daniel.  I don’t care how dynamic he is.” Jack blustered, pointing a finger across the table back at his lover.  His brows were crossed and his eyes were ablaze with a determination. 

“One old man is enough?” Daniel teased, mockingly.  He smiled as he said it, but Jack’s offense was plain in the way that his jaw slacked with indignation.  He was actually struck speechless for a second. 

Trying to recover quickly the archeologist’s lover could only manage a disgruntled, “Hey!” that made Daniel’s cheeky smile widen, despite himself. 

“It was a joke.” The scientist offered, not willing to apologize for the jab that had served him as a satisfying retribution for the other’s unfocused jeering earlier. 

“That wasn’t a joke that was an insult.” Came the grumbled response from the sulking soldier across from him at the desk.  Jack had lent back into his chair, folding his arms across his chest, looking surprisingly like Cindel when she decided to try pouting for attention.  That made Daniel’s smile widen even more.  He brought his hand up to cover it, rubbing his bottom lip again as his mind plodded back to the discussion at hand. 

There was a moment of quiet then.  Jack seemed to be brooding, eyes downcast and distracted looking, and Daniel lost in his mental catalogue of possible candidates.  Due to his intensive manner of study beneath Professor Jordan the archeologist had been a piss poor socializer.  His relationship with the fun and flirty redhead had been the majority of his means of mixing with his peers and professional colleagues and even that had been extremely limited by his desire to focus.  As he came to the end of a surprising short list of individuals he began to come to the conclusion that he was perhaps going to need outside help on the matter. 

“Who we need is you, Daniel.  Point Blank.”

The archeologist glanced back at his lover.  It had been a very poignant statement, pregnant with many hidden innuendoes—frustration, irritation, love, familiarity, and quite possibly even nostalgia.  Jack wanted what had been or nothing at all.  It was a characteristic mentality of the man that Daniel had come to terms with a long time ago with some difficulty.  Jack had firm values and beliefs that he served bluntly.  So this comment was both warming for the archeologist and increasingly annoying.  It wasn’t the first time the soldier had brought this up but Daniel was hoping he could make it the last.

“You can’t have me.  Period.”

Jack’s mouth pressed into the thin line again, grim with his prospect of losing.  Those sable eyes darted away and Daniel was again warmed by the offense that his lover seemed to take.  Jack wasn’t use to surrendering an argument or a fight and Daniel could see that he was mustering all his reserve patience to keep from verbally engaging in an all-out war.  It was that shot-to-kill gut reaction that Daniel wanted so much to temper in the team that the soldier was now repressing, making it all too clear to the archeologist that he needed a suitable replacement for himself on the team before the first gating.  

Needing an outside opinion meant the scientist would need the General’s approval.  He would have to speak with the Texan first and then possibly contact Professor Jordan for advice and further recommendations. 

Daniel stood from his chair and leaned across the desk to plant a quick peck against the other man’s temple.  Jack looked up at him and the scientist explained, “I’m going to look into this further.  Why don’t you go and speak with Skaara more about joining the team and the kind of commitment he would be making.  He has no understanding of Earth’s customs let alone the military’s.  He needs to know what would be expected of him.”

Jack gave a nod and rose correspondingly.  Together they left—Jack managing to smack his ass sharp enough to make the archeologist wince just before they left the privacy of the office and went their separate ways. 

It wasn’t hard for Daniel to gain the General’s permission to contact the Professor.  George was more apprehensive about involving more civilians but only until Daniel argued the need to balance the military mind set with the ability to speak with the races that they may come across.  The Abydos mission being a prime example that General seemed to understand spoke volumes. 

The archeologist allowed the General to contact his old professor.  It would only serve to fuel unwanted rumors and interest in the program if Daniel allowed his name to appear in the request—and he had explained as much to the General.  It didn’t take long for a response.  Daniel had the new list of candidates with their qualifications and academic portfolio included, in bullet form—as thorough and detailed as though Jordan had the document prepared and waiting.  By the time Jack came to take him home, he had narrowed down the list and to three potential replacements.

The last thing he did before he left the base was to give General Hammond the three candidates, listed in order of preference.  They agreed that if the first did not accept the position that the second would contacted and so on.  The General assured him that personnel would be put to the task immediately.

[Jack & Cindel](http://roryalice.deviantart.com/art/Jack-O-Niell-Cindel-Stargate-SG-1-469462770)

 


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that these chapters are getting spaced out a little more guys! I have started a new job (from house wife to working optician! Hurray!) and I have a little less time to devote to second chance than I would like at the moment (and that I know you guys are going to miss too!) Hang in there and please support me by reading when I do post! I am so very lucky to have you read this far! Thank you! 
> 
> The editing here was very very hasty...I apologize.

“Jack…yes—!” Daniel moaned breathlessly, just before a large palm covered his panting mouth.

The soldier didn’t say anything.  With his hand firmly in place he continued the rapid pace of their love making, pounding his taut erection into the archeologist hard enough to make the brunet wince.  With his ankles braced against his soldier’s shoulders and Jack’s other palm firmly gripping his hip, Daniel was electrified by the pace set.  The bed frame creaked its protestation.  The archeologist came hard, spilling into the hand of his lover, as Jack sank one last firm thrust into him, lifting his hips with the motion, as his cock shuddered and let go.

Moments later they were both in the bathroom, under the spray of the shower head, cleaning up.  Daniel had wet his hair and as the archeologist cleaned himself under the warm spray of water he could feel Jack’s fingers running through the tangled length from behind him.  Then a stubbled chin grated against his shoulder and over the surge of the water he could hear the man compliment, “Have I told you yet what a turn on your hair is like this?”

Daniel chuckled.  His hair was only long because wearing it long was ‘in style’ on Abydos.  The scholar hadn’t even spared a thought to book an appointment for a cut.  He would scrap any notion of that now. 

“Your ass ain’t half bad either.” Came the sarcastic crack that normally followed a compliment from the soldier.

“I’m not sure I’m glad you like either of those attributes of mine.” Daniel bantered, shuffling to switch positions in the cramped shower with the large man. 

Jack gave a short bark of laughter, as he slipped under the spray, tipping his head back to wet himself completely.  When he came back out, one eye shut as water drained from his hair, he teased, “Yeah, I suppose not.  I’m sure my enjoyment of both of those is one hell of a pain in your ass.”  The comment was followed by a sharp slap to his backside that made Daniel supress an expletive. 

After they were both cleaned the two men had dressed for bed and cracked a beer each in the living room.  Jack flipped through the channels on the flat screen as Daniel laid a small selection of the now piling up paperwork that his new position required.  Jack seen him methodically laying the papers in order of priority on the coffee table, as he crossed his legs to sit before it, and the soldier shook his head.  Daniel tossed him and unimpressed look but didn’t say anything.  He hoped that by now Jack knew enough to keep his comments on his unequivocal work ethic to himself.

Cindel had been excited to see him after they had picked her up, along with the retriever, from the Fifleman’s, exploding with questions and endless inquiries that the new military consultant couldn’t answer.  He turned the questions back on his little daughter and she took the misdirection well, beginning to explain her day with the kind elderly neighbors.  Not being with him for the day on a still foreign planet had not seemed to bother the five year old and her father was not surprised.  He hoped this was confirmation that the girl would adapt to this living and working arrangement well. 

Over Jack’s spaghetti and meat sauce supper the two men enjoyed hearing about her adventures.  The Fifleman’s had laughed when she had mistakenly dropped drawers and peed in the corner of the yard, much like she seen the dogs doing, and they had been impressed by her ability to read some of the shorter articles in the newspaper along with Ron.  Daniel could see that he had missed a few things when explaining they ways of Earth to his little girl and he took the time between slurps of noodles to remind her of them.

Then they had cleaned the dishes together and allowed the girl to show them the park and playground down the street that the neighbors had introduced her too.  They both enjoyed watching her demonstrate all her new found skills on the play equipment and trees until she began to yawn and they noticed it was getting late.    Then they stopped by the local grocery store to grab a few essentials and retired home, putting the girl to bed.

Cindel was sound asleep now and Daniel hoped she would stay that way.  He had mistakenly called out earlier, lost in the pleasure, and Jack had been quick enough to think of stopping him.  He was glad for it.  The little girl had enough to mitigate here on this new planet and in this new living situation—without her mother and the support of her people—to worry about being introduced to her father’s other sexual inclinations. 

That made him stop and think.  How long did he expect to keep this from her?  Cindel was anything but dull.  She easily picked up on the emotions of others around her, like her mother had, and she had an uncanny ability to effortlessly wrap her head around new ways of thinking and social differences, much like her father.  The incident this morning in the kitchen was a perfect example.  He didn’t doubt that she may already have begun to suspect there was something different about the relationship he shared with the Colonel.

“Damn, just the highlights…” the Colonel grumbled beside him.  Daniel looked from the man settled back on the couch, head supported in one arm and feet crossed at the other end, and back to the flat screen.  He understood the complaint when he seen that Jack was watching the baseball highlights on TSN.  Obviously there wasn’t a game on.

The interruption had been well timed.  Daniel’s mind strayed back to the papers in front of him and away from the musings of dealing with his daughter and his rekindled relationship.  The paperwork would be distracting and methodical—something that had to be done that could keep his mind on task.  He moved through the pages, filling in blanks and signing his name, writing reports and referencing.  It was tedious time consuming work and when he was about half way through the call of nature broke his steady rhythm.

The archeologist pushed himself back from the coffee table with his hands, only for his ass to leave the rug and light with pins and needles.  He winced, pursing his lips in irritation as the tingling left him struggling to get to his feet smoothly.  Once there the sensation travel from his ass cheeks down to his heels, all the muscles in his legs complaining.  He rubbed his sore posterior and took a few tentative steps around the corner of the coffee table in the direction of the stairs.  Jack would have surely given him a sarcastic remark if the soldier had still been awake. 

Daniel left the other man passed out on the couch and went for a piss.  The clock on the wall by the bathroom informed him that it was nearly midnight—what used to be his best time to work that now felt like far past his bed time.  He yawned and went about his business without even flipping the light switch on in the bathroom.  Even after washing his hands and splashing his face with some of the cool water the archeologist felt beat.  The paper work could wait.  The bed was calling his name.

Forgetting completely that Jack was still on the sofa the scientist made his way to the bedroom.  As he passed his daughter’s door he heard what sounded like a low growl, soft but threatening.  The grogginess evaporated from his person in an instant, replaced with the raise of goosebumps over his bare arms, as he remembered the events of the previous night.  Thinking only of his daughter’s safety he gripped the door knob and forced the door open.  He was jarred aside by the rushing form of her canine counterpart who surged forth from the dark room with conviction, heading down the few steps to the back door. 

Daniel caught his breath and stared after the animal.  The retriever was sniffing at the door jam, stopping now and then in spots to give the same menacing growl that he heard emanating from within the spare bedroom.  He darted his attention back to the dark interior of the room, stepping closer to the bed.  He reached out a hand to lean over the foot of the bed, assessing the lumped form of the child beneath the plush Hello Kitty throw.  His eyes adjusted to the darkness and he could soon see that she was still sound asleep, blissfully unaware of the loss of her sleeping companion.  The man sighed and turned his attention back to the odd behavior of the dog.

Gently he stepped from the room and closed the door behind him.  Daniel came down the steps into the back entry way, where the dog still agitatedly seemed to guard the door.  The ears of the normally congenial canine were pulled back against the skull of the dog, his teeth were barred, and his eyes were intense enough for the whites to be visible.  Again Daniel felt incredibly uneasy and unsure what to do with the animal.  Thinking only of keeping those sleeping in the house still slumbering he gripped the door knob and flung the back door open.

Farley lunged out of the opening full force, like a coiled spring let loose.  Mid bark the animal stopped, his paws hitting the cement only long enough to back pedal. Daniel was speechless as he watched the defending canine whimper in fear and scramble backwards back into the.  With its beautiful full tail tucked between its legs the animal retreated down the stairs into the basement.  The archeologist stood in the open doorway, baffled and on edge. 

Like the dog he felt as though his hackles were raised.  The scene he had just witnessed screamed danger, cried out strange!  What was causing the animal to act so abnormally?  To lunge in aggression and be stopped so suddenly, to retreat in in fear?  Daniel turned slowly back to the yard.  His vision scanned the fence line and the dark shadows of the dense poplars and spruce that grew beyond.  The moon was just a crescent and illuminated little.  The stars were visible in the inky black sky above the trees, small dots of light here and there, only the brightest able to outmatch the hazy glow of the cities lights.  The Fifleman’s yard was dark and empty.  Their house was silent. 

There was only the sound of a city at night beyond the faint humming of the house’s electricity and air ducts.  The buzz of night insects.  The soft rustling on the breeze in the full leaves of the poplars and the needles of the spruce.  Nothing out of the ordinary. 

The archeologist cursed his mind and his senses for running away with his common sense.  The dog was obviously scared of something but he wasn’t about to search the backyard in the dark to find what it was at this hour.  There was nothing to be worried about.  The yard was empty, the house was safe, and—he yawned—he was obviously over tired.  He would mention the incident to Jack in the morning.

Running a hand back through his hair, his palm came to rest on the back of his neck where the hairs had been raised by the retriever’s menacing growl and subsequent whimpering.  The heat from his hand was comforting, dispelling the last of his unease, as he accepted his conclusion and closed the door.  He turned on his heel to make his way to the bedroom when he was stopped dead.  Above the few steps on the landing that led into the hallway of the house stood the darkened silhouette of his daughter. 

“Fick miche!” Daniel expostulated in surprise, the german curse escaping his lips before he could bring a hand up to stop it.  His heart was thundering in his chest and he felt slightly like he’d swallowed a net full of butterflies.  His first instinct was the reprimand the child for scarring the piss out of her father but thankfully his hand was still over his mouth to keep the useless notion at bay. 

The man’s eyes scanned his youngster as he caught his breath and his mind sorted through his shifting emotions.  Cindel’s entire body was blacked out by the faint ambient light behind her so that not even her face was visible.  She stood stock still, arms close to her sides, hands in little balled fists.  Her hair was down, black formless curls outlining her head and joining it to the dark form of her body below without the definition of a neck.  The hairs rose once more on the back of his neck and the man suddenly realized he was spooked by his own child, standing above him in the doorway.

Daniel willed himself to move.  Mechanically his body responded.  Like a stiffened robot one leg lurched forward towards the child and then another.  He tried to say something but his words failed him.  All he managed was her name.  It came out of him as a question, shaken by his uneasy nerves and her sudden unwarranted appearance.

The child didn’t move.  Daniel the few steps more in a rush, closing the short distance between them, needing to animate her, to see her face, and hold her in his arms—to know she was real, and his, and alive.  His fingers darted out, taking a hold of her tiny fists, as he called her name again—this time demanding—commanding her to respond.  “Cindel!”

His little girl cocked her head to the side, like a small bird assessing the activity of unknown but interesting person below.  He seen the movement by the way her curls shifted over her tiny shoulders.  Her face, although he was close, still remained shadowed by the light behind her.  He bit his lip, confusing, scared, and uneasy.  His thumbs rubbed the back of her little fists tenderly, as though the motion could induce speech from her.  “Cindel…please,” he begged her.  The unspoken plea resounding in his head, _please speak to me!  What’s wrong?  What has happened to you?!  Speak!_

“Where’s mama?” her tiny voice creaked, as though the words had been spoken through clenched teeth, barley louder than a whisper.

His eyes scanner the shadowed face of his daughter, his feet shuffling closer as he strained to find definition through the darkness.  Keeping as still as a mannequin the child stared down at him blankly, her eyes blinking lethargically but still unseeing.  Understanding suddenly dawned on the archeologist, dispelling the majority of his apprehension in an instant, as he realized this crazed spectacle was the result of somnambulance.  A wheezed breath exited his lungs, as the tension that had built in his shoulders released.  The little girl had not walked in her sleep before but it was the most plausible explanation.

Blinking blankly once more the girl’s half hooded blue eyes moved to his face, focusing and locking with his own, surreally cognisant.  In the same garbled speech his daughter repeated her previous question.  “Where did mama go, Daddy?”

Consternation knit the man’s brows.  This last event seemed to completely contradict the reasoning he had tried to apply to the situation.  It felt awfully like a bandage being torn away after failing to quell the flow of a wound.  Stubbornly he refused to allow this feeling to hinder his very sound explanation and came up the steps, gathering the child into his arms as he went.  The little body did not resist but he felt her entire frame go rigid in his embrace.  She didn’t say anything and instead began to whimper softly against his chest. 

Alarm bells were ringing in his head—screaming that something was terribly wrong—and he denied them attention.  He propelled himself to the spare bedroom and laid the child back down on the bed, quickly bringing the comforter back up to her chin.  When he finally looked back into her face the little eyes were closed and her mouth was drawn into a perfect little rose bud.  He smoothed back the dark curls from her forehead and placed a gentle hand onto her small chest.  It was more relieving than he had hoped, to feel that slow rhythmic rise and fall.  Seeing her there, suddenly and inexplicably slumbering peacefully once more the man once more confidently reaffirmed his previous interpretation.

He stayed there with his daughter for a long time.  He watched her breathing, watched her sleeping, and tried not to ask the question ‘why?’  When he did leave he was repulsed by the fact that he couldn’t shrug the apprehension that had gathered around the incident, choking his sound reasoning like a thick laurel colored smog that reeked of a pungent sense of trepidation.  As a scholar and a man of logic and reason this inexplicable feeling left him perturbed.  There was little evidence to suspect anything was awry and the incident was nothing more than a walking nightmare—very much real and substantial—although it felt like he was living some campy horror film script.

The scholar leaned forward and kissed the small forehead of his daughter, before he stood to leave. 


	29. Chapter 29

Daniel seemed out of sorts in the morning, like a sleep deprived zombie lumbering around the kitchen that not even caffeine could cure.  The Colonel watched him suspiciously over the rim of his own mug of brew as the younger man mechanically went about packing a lunch into the small purple Dora knapsack Kathy had picked out.  It was then that he noticed the little bird seemed less chipper than normal as well.  She lacked the dark circles under her tired blue eyes but her visage still mimicked that of her father’s.  It made him wonder if he was missing something else. 

The soldier’s hand drifted from the paper to the head in his lap, scratching behind the whiny golden retrievers ears.  Farley was acting like his normal self, coming to Jack for attention like he had before the little bird had taken his place.  He peered down at the dog and smiled at those big brown eyes, the look of begging so anthropomorphous on the animal that Jack scoffed at his best friend and dropped the remainder of his toast (and, yes, the Colonel’s vocabulary had improved drastically since his lover’s return.  The habit that Daniel had of correcting his word choice with more variety still as hard to take as it had been before, but  was undoubtedly influencing the soldier regardless of its annoyance.)  The eager mouth of the animal snapped it up, swallowing the entirety of the morsel without chewing.  Jack scratched the satisfied dog one more time before pushing the large head from his lap and pushing his chair back to rise to his feet. 

The man took his plate to the sink, watching his lover interacting with a stubborn looking little girl from the corner of his eye.  Like he remembered Charlie would do, her little foot stamped the ground with a slap, as dark brows lowered over glowering blue eyes that practically glowed with enmity.  Jack seen her mother in her then, those almond shaped eyes intense even though they shown blue instead of umber.  Daniel said something to her in a quiet pleading voice, as his slim fingers encompassed the elbows of her arms which were wrapped protectively over her chest.  Speaking in the foreign language the man’s words only proved to escalate the girl’s conniption.  With her bottom lip jutted out a mile she vehemently shook her head and declined whatever it was her father had offered as recompense.  Daniel tried again and then the little bird violently pulled away from him, screaming one word Jack did understand.  “Shova!”

“Hey-hey now,” the Colonel was saying suddenly, inserting himself between the two as he bent to grab the little girl by the shoulder.  His touch made her freeze and in a tone he hadn’t used in a long time, the man took advantage of the moment to admonished the child’s behaviour, “that is no way to talk to your father, Cindel.”  The rose bud of her startled mouth fell agape, as recognition dawned on the child’s shocked face.  Her surprise gave way to brimming tears, as she then pressed herself against the Colonel’s legs and began to apologize in English. 

Jack rubbed the back of her head, smoothing the dark ringlets of curls with his large hand, feeling slightly overwhelmed by his the result of his unexpected actions.  Talk about out of sorts!  He hadn’t seen the child act this way before and suddenly realized that he had probably over stepped his boundaries with her father.  His gaze flashed from the little bird to Daniel and he mouthed an apologetic, “oops”, before he realized his lover was smirking at him in amusement. 

Cindel seemed to turn her behavior around on a dime after the tears had finished, trading her contempt for a reassuring hug with her father.  They packed her off to the neighbors for the day without another incident, normalcy successfully returned with a simple but firm reprimand.  Jack had tried to pry into the subject more on the drive to the base.  He even went as far as to attempt to bribe Daniel with a stop at the Starbucks drive through, but was unsuccessful.  Daniel still looked tired and perhaps a little off kilter due to the little incident.  He explained it away in short sentences that only worked to prove to Jack that the scholar was holding back. 

Nightmares and sleepwalking would leave anybody out of sorts the soldier supposed.  No, Daniel was actually pleased to see Jack step in and rescue his floundering discussion with the child.  Yes, Cindel would be fine and was known to have stubborn defiant outbursts before with her parents.  That was it. 

They separated in the elevator, without much more said.  Daniel went to his office and Jack went to his, grudgingly.  The Colonel knew that Daniel was about hip deep in work already but he wasn’t so sure what he was going to do for the day.  It was Friday.  If the dialing computer spit out an address soon the soldier knew that he would no doubt ship out on Monday.  At least he would have the weekend with his lover before he began gating without the man by his side. 

Jack was thinking about introducing the little bird to a movie theatre and arcade games when he walked into his office and found paperwork waiting for him on his normally bare desk top.  The folder was marked with the heading “SG-1” and he began flipping through it without seating himself on the other side in his chair.  The first page was a form that went on for another four pages, then he found a picture of Skaara that looked like a shitty prison mug shot.  The General had conceded to his request for the boy to join the team.  That was a relief.  The paperwork was not.

Cursing writing and forms and administration rules in general he grabbed the folder up.  He’d be damned if he would fill out all this paperwork for Skaara.  The boy would have to learn to read and write English at some point, so he headed to the level where base guests were kept.  Much to the Colonel’s surprise the boy’s guard was missing, hopefully a perk of becoming a part of the team.

Skaara answered after one knock, his dark face split by a white toothed grin—normalcy returned.  The boy looked like a different person however, having cut off the long plated braids and dreads.  His hair was shorn nearly to his scalp, making him look like the cliché new recruit and about ten years older.  He was wearing the same military fatigue jumpsuit and the boy gave a salute when he entered.  Jack wasn’t sure if it was an improvement. 

After a short greeting they sat at the little table and began to discuss the youth’s rules.  “So, you’re under house arrest for a couple more weeks?  Super.” Jack said, flicking his silver brows in sarcasm. 

“General Hammond said that it would be lifted when I have proven myself on the team.” Skaara explained, in his choppy Abydonian accent, still grinning from ear to ear.  He wasn’t at all hampered by this regulation, even though it meant he would have to wait to travel off the base, even if it was just a trip to Jack’s house.  “This is important to me, O’Niell.  This is my chance to do something.”

Jack nodded his agreement, understanding that need and the desire to find a means of satiating it.  He produced the paperwork and pushed it towards the boy.  Skaara looked it over, page by page, and then glanced up at the Colonel apprehensively. “Isn’t this your paperwork, O’Niell?” he asked, with a lopsided smirk.  Obviously the boy had suspected his motive.

“It just needs my signature on it.” He quipped confidently, reclining in the plastic chair and folding his arms.  “I’m gonna catch a nap while you work on your English and fill it out.”

There was a soft chuckle from the boy across from him.  Dark almond shaped eyes narrowed on the soldier and Skaara dryly replied, “Dan’yel has made sure that I can read and write English.”

Jack was slightly surprised—although he felt stupid for being surprised—and the soldier retorted with a grin, “Then this shouldn’t be any trouble for ya.”

Skaara gave a scoffing laugh, but obediently picked up the pen.  “Yes, sir,” he said as he began to scratch the information into the empty blanks.

Jack sighed and put his feet up on the edge of the table.  He half watched the boy scribbling in a neater scrawl than his own chicken scratch and wondered what it was going to be like out there with Skaara at his side and Daniel back at the base, behind a desk.  He couldn’t imagine it, couldn’t even guess at what it would be like.  It just didn’t seem right—not so much the Skaara part, he was looking forward to that—more so the Daniel behind a desk part.  There was nothing more of a libido killer than the archeologist head down, pen furiously scribbling, seated in an office chair behind a desk.  It was boring and frustrating.  Daniel was far sexier when he was riled up about something, red faced, and arguing his point.

It took a fair hour for Skaara to get through the paperwork.  Some of the blanks were far too out of context for the boy to understand and Jack was forced to explain some of the military’s more stringent regulations in the process.  When he finished Jack jumped up from his chair, snatching up the papers and plunking them back into the folder. 

“Well, I’m off to see the wizard.” He said, turning to leave.  The blank look on the boy’s face reminded him of Teal’c’s general response to most of these comments. 

Skaara thanked him for his vouch and invited the Colonel to work out with him in the bases gym.  He declined, wanting to get the paperwork to the General ASAP.  They parted and Jack went about filing the paperwork with Hammond.  The two soldiers shared a brief conversation regarding the first gate, which turned into an impromptu meeting that took up more of his time than he would have liked.  Apparently the dialing computer had yet to spit out an address, which was beginning to contradict Carter’s hypothesised timeline.  That no doubt thrilled the Captain.  She would have more time to work on her little side project—probably one of the few times that being wrong would make her more pleased than being right.

“Dr. Quisenberry arrived this morning and is being interviewed by Dr. Jackson now.” The Texan went on to explain, peeking the Colonel’s curiosity.

“Qui-sen-ho-what?” Jack tried to repeat the odd surname.

The older man smirked at him, amused by his dry humor and borderline disrespect.  He knit his fingers together over the breast of his navy blazer, as he leaned back in his large leather office chair, and reiterated, “Dr. Delia Quisenberry, an Egyptologist and linguist who’s resume just about mirror’s that of Dr. Jackson’s.  She will be assigned to your team, Colonel, should Dr. Jackson see her fit.”

Jack was stunned for a moment—another female?  A replacement for Daniel?  All the paperwork his lover had spread out on the coffee table in his own damned living room no doubt had something to do with this.  Jack wasn’t sure he was okay with this.  “And I have no say in the matter, General?” he asked peevishly, eyebrows raised high above his burning sable eyes.

The General’s mouth spread into a generous smile, amused by his subordinates offense, and the Colonel automatically folded his arms over his chest and remonstrated, “I mean, she is going to be under my command, is she not?  Shouldn’t I get a say in who is or is not on my team?”

The Texan dipped his head in an acquiescing nod that suggested a bit of sarcasm, as he offered, “I am not against having your opinion, Colonel.  I’m sure Dr. Jackson would not deny your input either.”

Jack stood from his chair and asked for permission to leave.  The Texan dipped his bald head again and raised his hand to indicate the door the Colonel was already opening.  Jack stepped out of the office and then stopped, as the girl’s name seeped in.  Taking the step back, he peered over the General and asked, “Quisenberry?  As in Dan Quisenberry?”

“The submarine pitcher for the Kansas City Royals?” The General clarified and then shook his head.  “No, I don’t think there’s a relation, Colonel.  However I wouldn’t put it past you to ask.”

Jack nodded hesitantly, as the gears in his brain tried to process whether he should be taking that last comment as a compliment or a dis, and finally took his leave of the office.  He mulled over this new enlightening fact dourly on the way to Daniel’s office.  He wasn’t pleased that his lover had not informed him of the choices.  He curtly remembered that it had been mentioned in passing and he had failed to show any interest—probably why Daniel didn’t go into details. 

The soldier scoffed at himself in the empty elevator that was gradually climbing to level 18.  In truth, he didn’t want to think about replacing the other man on his team one iota—a point he had apparently made abundantly clear that was going sympathized with.  It was not yet conceivable in his brain for his team to function without its two stalwart members.  Daniel had declined, he understood why even if he had trouble digesting the consequences, and Teal’c was MIA—their comrades fate completely a mystery, left to the chaos of his new timeline and the changes they had made thus far.  He was hopeful however that Skaara would make a reticent addition to the functionality of his changed command but he was skeptical that this ‘berry had any chance of filling Daniel’s shoes.  In his mind no one ever could.

The soldier’s head was still downcast, eyes glued to the lines painted on the cement floor, mulling the matter over in his mind when he heard a soft tinkling laughter accompanied by the all too familiar chuckle of his lover.  His head raised at the combined sounds coming from the half open door to the archeologist’s office, where he now assumed miss ‘berry was making herself at home—within the company of his linguist!

“…so there I was, sand-boarding on my back against my will across the burning sand dunes of an alien planet, towed along by a giant—albeit harnessed and therefore domesticated—animal leaving all the soldiers to run along after me.” He heard the end of Daniel’s little story, which earned the younger man another delighted and amused laugh from the woman he entertained.

“But you survived,” she pointed out, amicably, “I hope none the worse for wear and now you’re back here, safe and sound…” she sighed, sounding fairly swept of her feet, “You’ve done it, Dr. Jackson. You’ve traveled to a galaxy far…far away and come back to tell about it.  I just…I guess I am still having trouble believing it!” She laughed again.

“Have another cup of coffee then,” Daniel suggested and Jack could hear a cup being refilled, as the archeologist cooly added, “so you sober up to the fact that this is real and this is what I invited you here to do.”

Not being one for tact and not giving one shit about courtesy or manner, the Colonel hustled around the corner, pushing the door wipe open as he announced his presence with an emphatic correction, “You mean we, don’tcha Doctor?”

Both parties were taken back by the grandiose entrance but Daniel recovered faster than the red head.  The linguist’s mouth softened into a warm smile as he extended an open palm in the older man’s general direction, filling in the blank for his pretty accomplice, “And this, Delia, is the infamous man himself.”  Daniel hadn’t stood to give the introduction but at this the young woman did, turning big black rimmed eyes at the Colonel that showed only a hint of apprehension. 

Jack’s mouth slid into that characteristic thin line as he assessed the girl in a quick sweeping glance that she barely registered.  ‘Berry was a perfect name for the tiny girl, who damn well wasn’t a day past 30.  The pale skinned woman had a head of fiery hair that hung in loose boho’ waves off of her shoulders and darn near half way down her back, framing a heart shaped face that sported an aptly suited cherub nose, speckled with little caramel freckles that danced across her cheek bones.  All of this perfection was set above a small cupid’s bow mouth that was spread into a generous white toothed smile, as her small hand reached in greeting towards him.  Darting a glance down at his lover behind his desk, he shook the woman’s hand.  His hard sable glare accused the younger man of having inappropriate bias when it had come to choosing such an angelic replacement.

Daniel didn’t seem to notice or care.  His eyes weren’t on the Colonel.  They were on the back of the woman’s head, as he politely finished the introduction that Jack had failed to take over, “This is Colonel Jack O’Niell.  Colonel, this is Delia Quisenberry.”

The hand shake ended and Jack promptly stuffed both of his hands into the pockets of his fatigues, as he gave the woman brief eye contact and a thin smile.  She took the patronizing look and returned a courteous greeting in response, explaining in an accent that the Colonel couldn’t quite place, “I am pleased to finally meet you, Colonel, and I look forward to developing an amicable working arrangement with you and your team.  This is an amazing facility, an amazing—“

“Amazing everything.” Jack curtly finished for her, unable to listen to her go on and on about what he had accepted so many years ago, “Everything around here is amazing.  Amazing wormhole producing galaxy jumper, amazing office place, amazing store rooms, and damn fine amazing shitters too.”

The red head pursed her lips to stifle a chuckle, choosing to nod her head in agreement instead.  Jack realized his assholish statement was uncalled for.  He didn’t care.

“The Colonel, Delia,” Daniel began to explain, in a soft assertive tone that the girl turned back towards, “is somewhat of a comedian…in his own mind.”

“I look forward to exploring that with him.” She commented sweetly, swiveling her head back to the soldier, with a sickly sweet smile on her rouged lips. “Thank you for seeking me out, Colonel, and introducing yourself.  I have learned a lot about the work you are endeavoring to do here and I am grateful to be a part of it.  The briefing later shall prove to be most interesting.”

It was hard to be a thorn to something that could remain so damned polite in the face of opposition.  He found himself shrugging his shoulders and giving her a quick nod of agreement, which got a curl to form on the corner of his lover’s mouth behind the strawberry tart.  Jack raised his brows inquiringly at the younger man, seated past the woman behind his paper littered work desk, and asked, “When is this said briefing?”

Daniel stifled a chuckle, obviously amused by his lover’s lack of knowledge—wasn’t his fault no one chose to inform him the moment the newest member of his team had arrived—and before the scholar could answer the woman cut him off.  She moved her body just a touch to block the soldier’s view of the archeologist, inserting herself between them to make direct eye contact with the man she would be working under.  Those dark tinted lashes didn’t flutter or bat.  They framed the chartreuse colored eyes that narrowed on him, highlighting the contrast of golden striations over the green base.  The Colonel realized that he was staring—but she had started it—it was hard to look away from such an intense and peculiar gaze.  The apples of her pinked cheeks rose ever so slightly with the smirk that formed on the corner of her wide mouth.  Then she tipped her chin up, straightening her spine, as she answered him, “Not long now, Colonel.  Less than an hour to go.”

Jack felt the muscles in his neck and jaw tense and he fought the urge to grind his molars.  The stray thought that he may be over reacting and what-the-hell-was-he-even-be-defensive-for crossed his mind, fleetingly, and he decided he’d better take a seat and cool his jets.  Thankfully there were two chairs opposite Daniel at the desk and he slipped past the petite woman into one of them. 

Jack seen Daniel wince, attempting to hide the fact that he had, behind an all too convenient hand that came up to readjust his glasses.  _If he thinks that he is going to get rid of me so that he can hit up ‘berry for some sweetness, that bastard has another thing coming._ The thought had barreled into his mind so quickly and so recklessly that it shocked even him.  _What the fuck?  Why am I being such a clingy girl?  Carter and now ‘berry-tart?  I’m a jealous-bastard…_ He understood that the problem was no doubt linked to the fact that he had been given very little opportunity to voice his own opinions about whom should become the newest member to his ever evolving team—and the blatantly obvious fact that he’d come to terms with giving up the archeologist he loved to someone else before, only to miraculously be given the chance to have him returned.  He’d be damned if he was ever going to give up the younger man again, to anyone—still didn’t mean the soldier had reason to suspect that the scholar would willing leave.

Woman were wily creatures though from his experience with the opposite sex.  A man is inclined by nature to consider the beautiful small things as being weaker then themselves, when in truth they are far stronger in more ways than one.  Sara had been a prime example.  When Charlie had died the experienced soldier had shut down.  Even though death had been no stranger to his line of work, one never suspects to have such a tragedy effect their home, especially not their child.  Sara had been strong.  She had accepted the death for what it was, a tragic accident, and had more resolve than to allow herself to twist the truth into lies fueled by self-hatred.  Her beauty and softness seemed to contradict that strength.  Carter was no different and her actions had proven it to him many times in their past timeline.  Still, the Colonel wasn’t sure that he would have picked such a wisp of a woman to take through the stargate to guard his six.  ‘Berry didn’t look like she’d ever held a gun, let alone had her delicately manicured digits (although free of any form of gaudy paint thankfully) felt the kickback of a fired shot.

Analyzing the girl’s hands he could see that there was a ring blatantly absent from a fourth finger that still held the barest of tan lines where one used to be.  It was an assessment that the woman failed to notice that he also wished he had.  What did he care?  On second thought, as her commanding officer, maybe he did.  He would go nuts if he had to listen to her prattle on about the difficulties of being married when one’s entire life is damn well immersed in another galaxy.  But her not having that ring also meant that she was available for another’s affections—and with the way that Daniel had laughed with her—NOPE!  Nope.  Nope.  He was not going to think about that…

‘Berry took the seat beside him, at Daniel’s polite insistence.  Like a prim and proper lady the young woman tucked the back of the navy pencil skirt in around her knees as she brought them together to seat herself in the chair.  Jack couldn’t help but also notice that there was faint yellowish bruising along the outside of the right knee, old but healing, still visible even through the veiling pantyhose.  That peaked his interest—and again he wished that it didn’t—as his mind began to speculate the reason why.

The archeologist came to his lover’s rescue, beginning to explain why the strawberry tart was an excellent candidate for the team—tactful to leave out the fact that she would be replacing himself.  Apparently she had no fun as a child and had picked up languages like a whiz watching the channels on the satellite—who in the hell does that?!—which launched an unparalleled ambition for languages.  Graduated high school with flying colors—and probably zero friends—only to sail through university on a boat made of brains and an infinite number of hours chained to a desk studying.  During her Phd she worked briefly with Professor Jordan under one of the man’s professional colleagues, no doubt spending the majority of her Friday nights playing scrabble in Latin or Gaelic with her cat.  In truth Jack hadn’t absorbed much of the woman’s damn resume other than the fact that Daniel thought she was fuckin’ amazing. 

“What about you, Colonel O’Niell?” she asked in a firm but deceptively quiet voice, as she turned her frame slightly in the chair, making their knees bump.  Irritably he rocked his knee inward away from the woman and her pencil skirt, hating how he liked the way her breasts showed through the gently stretched fabric of her muted lime blouse.  He gave her the eye contact her movement towards him had insinuated, feeling slightly intimidated by the intense color of her eyes as they narrowed on him, peering down the straight bridge of her terribly cute upturned nose.  He hated that there was a pang in his gut when she moistened her bottom lip and continued with, “Doctor Jackson here seems to find my resume adequate but I have this feeling that his opinion regarding that adjective is slightly different than your own.”

One silvered brow raised, as Jack clamped his slackened jaw shut.  Maybe the girl wasn’t so smart she was completely socially retarded.  He cleared his throat and nodded his head in agreement.  Sure.  He had an opinion.  Time to voice it.  He gestured towards to younger woman, his sweeping glance noting her smug confidence, as he was candid with his thoughts, “Well, you’re sure as hell right about that.  Going through the stargate isn’t anything like what you’ve been through before—far more danger and guns.  Sure Danny here says that you are an A1 book-smart cookie, but are ya going to pee your pants when there’s gunfire over your head?”

The Colonel seen her tip her head forward and swallow demurely, thinking he had cracked those steel nerves and made the damn pretty girl sweat.  Then she gave her peer a peeking glance of those closet-vixen eyes of hers askance, which seemed to make Daniel sweat more.  Before Jack could turn his attention to his afflicted lover, her flaming red waves tumbled forward over one shoulder with the upturn of her tilted head, displaying the wide mouth, curled at the corners.  She placed her hands together in her lap and, looking very diplomatic in her blouse and skirt, gave the Colonel her answer.  “I can’t say as I have had much experience with fighting, Colonel, but I have on several occasions had to evade gunfire.  I was the direct target only once and needless to say have lived to tell about it.” The smile broadened a little, not with confidence but with candor as she straightened her spine and admitted, “And firing a gun is not unfamiliar to me either.”

“Oh?” Jack had let the word out lamely, before he had had the foresight to stop its departure.  He narrowed his eyes in scrutiny, to make up for the surprise that had previous registered on his features at that last tidbit.

“Yes,” she said, looking away from him for the first time, as she spoke almost fondly, “my father was a rancher.  Guns are just part and parcel to running horses and cattle.  I’ve got just as excellent a shot with a Winchester as I do with a colt.”

“Well,” Jack said, brusquely, wringing his hands together in front of himself to detract from the fact that he was actually pleasantly surprised.  Allowing his assholishness to take over he announced rather dryly, “Unfortunately we are not winning the west, ‘Berry, we are exploring the galaxies and although I’m glad you’re an excellent shot, I will assure you that there will be a hell of a lot more than bullets flying over your head if shit hits the fan.  And, trust me, it always does.”

The younger woman stifled a chuckle and her mouth curled further into a coy smile.  She gave him an adamant nod, agreeing with his acrid comment, and assuring him that she understood.  “Your report from the Abydos mission was most enlightening, Colonel.” She said, as she gestured an open palm across the desk at the quiet archeologist watching the two of them acquaint themselves, looking very much amused.  “You have a far more poignant way of describing your experiences on the alien planet than Doctor Jackson does, although both proved to be a nail biter.  I am especially intrigued by the alien that you encountered in the human body—“

“Don’t be.  There all redundant and boring.  Same damn speech every time.” Jack said, feeling a sudden toe jab the foot of his chair from under the desk.  Biting his tongue he decided it was time to stop smart mouthin’ before he really did say too much.

“So, there are more…?”

She didn’t even finish the sentence before Daniel took back the controls to the conversation, steering her back to the straight and narrow.  Of course they suspected that there were more gou’ald living in human hosts and controlling human slave populations, there was no reason to suspect otherwise, and they felt that it was a certainty that at some point they would come back in contact with one or more of them during their recognisance missions through the stargate.  No, they did not know what to expect to find on the other end, except for what they could glean from MALP telemetry and recordings.  Presumably her expertise would be needed, based on their encounter with the Abydonians, language barriers being a great obstacle if it were to present itself. 

Jack sat back and watched the strawberry tart talk with his lover, hating the way she smiled at him, cheeks rosy and pink above an excited mouth that didn’t seem to stop flapping.  He hated even more the way that the archeologist looked at her.  There was a deep satisfaction in his sapphire eyes that urked the soldier.  He eventually left, lamely lying that he was heeding the call of nature.  The soldier left the two of them speaking what sounded like French…or maybe it was Spanish?

He found little solace back in his empty cubicle sized office, for the fifteen minutes until he had to re-join the tart in the large briefing room.  They spent two hours discussing boring things like team dynamics, what constituted a recon mission through the stargate, the basic workings of the stargate and its galaxy jumping wormhole, standard mission equipment and supplies, and report writing.  It was the longest two damn hours he had spent at that table for a long time.  Skaara wasn’t even much of a reprieve.  The boy was googly eyed over the red head and over the standard issue P90.  Carter was no better.  She yammered on with her technical mumbo-jumbo for what seemed like an eternity, even making ‘berry tart drowsy. 

Finally it was time to clock out and head back to the house.  It was then that Daniel dropped the bomb…


	30. Chapter 30

 

“Jack, honestly, you’re over reacting.” Daniel found himself repeating the phrase for the fifth time, as he ran a frustrated hand back through his long hair.  “If you don’t want me to go then all you have to do is say so.  I only offered because there was no one else to do it.”

“Give the girl a damn map if you want to acquaint her with the city.” The soldier blustered across from him in the kitchen, as he brusquely washed the dirty pots from their supper in the bubbly sink.  He lifted a suds covered hand, pink from scrubbing in the heated water, and gestured violently from the scholar to ‘the city’ arguing, “She can fire a god damned Winchester.  I’m sure she doesn’t need you to hold her hand and escort her around town.”

The dishes had been put off in order for the two of them to enjoy Cindel’s rendition of her day with the Fifleman’s at the spray park with her two four-legged stalwart companions.  Then they had taken a cleansing evening walk while Jack did some laundry.  She went to bed with no problems, tired from a long day of play, and the scholar hoped to keep her asleep.  Not wanting to upset Jack even more than his comment about offering to slip out that evening after his daughter had gone to bed and show Delia around the city already had, Daniel lowered his voice.  “I can stay here, Jack,” he conceded, to appease the angered man, “we can finish these dishes up and then try to find a game.”

Jack squinted his eyes closed and gave a whining sigh, letting his head fallback.  Hands still in the suds he stood there a moment, groaning.  Daniel watched in some amusement, as he dried the few pots his lover had actually managed to get cleaned during their argument.  He was still trying to understand what exactly the problem was.  He had assumed that Jack felt a little overwhelmed perhaps with having two persons added to his household, one being little and prone to fits of giggles and uncontrollable gum-flapping, but this last response seemed to contradict that. 

“Now, I’m the asshole.” Jack grunted, bluntly, and sighed again.

The sight of the other man so distraught over the disagreement brought a curl to the corner of the scholar’s mouth.  They used to have far greater verbal battles over smaller things and although he was still completely oblivious to the reason why Jack was pushing this one as far as he was, he could tell that the man himself wasn’t convinced with his own argument.  Jack didn’t concede well, it wasn’t in his nature. 

The soldier brought his vision back to the suds before him, chin so low it was nearly on his chest.  He shook his head and clucked his tongue derisively in his mouth at what Daniel assumed was his own behaviour.  The scholar decided to cut the guy some slack.  “Well, I wouldn’t say asshole yet.  Borderline maybe.”

That got him a royal glare and then a smirk, followed by a snort, as the man’s hands returned to scrubbing the last of the lasagna out of the pan in the sink of hot water.  “Right.” Was all that he said.

Needing more elaboration the linguist nudged the soldier a little further.  “I didn’t offer this to Delia without the best of intentions, Jack.” He explained.

“Right.” Jack snapped again, his brows shooting up as an unimpressed grin stretched across his mouth.  In a colder tone, he added acridly, “Of course you did.”

Realization hit Daniel like a static charge, shocking him into completely wrapping his brain around his lover’s odd behaviour.  A wry grin quirked the archeologist’s mouth, making his eyes crinkle around the corners, as he took a commanding step towards the soldier.  The tea towel fell to the tiles below as his hands snaked around the other’s middle, gripping the belt loops on the other side to pull the man closer—and keep him there.

The older man gave another resigned sigh, accepting that he had been figured out, making Daniel’s cocky grin grow.  “I know what this is about now…” the younger man said, in a low commanding tone, as he held Jack firm against his own hips.  He had the man’s undivided attention then.  The dishwashing had ceased, his hands still submerged in the sink.  Sable eyes glanced askance at the linguist, from under a dark rim of lashes.  “Jack,” Daniel said his name, in a tone that bordered on scolding, “You know damn well where my affections lie.  I’m sleeping in your bed for crying out loud.  This offer was nothing more than common courtesy extended to a professional colleague.”

“I know.” Jack whined, sounding very much like an acquiescent youth out of alternative options.  His hands worked harder at the baked on cheese and sauce burned into the bottom of the glass pan effectively putting Daniel off.  He let go of his lover and took a step back, giving them a comfortable space between them once more.

The linguist had identified the problem but he still wasn’t sure how to fix it.  His shot at reassuring the soldier through sexual contact had failed.  Jack wasn’t in the mood—which meant he was more bent out of shape over this than the archeologist had a first assessed.  Always ready to negotiate, Daniel made a compromise.  “Perhaps it would be better if you took Delia out tonight and showed her around.  Cindel is my daughter afterall, I should really stay with her, and Delia is your team mate.  It would be a good way for you two to break the ice…”

“Fuck no.  There will be no breaking of anything.” Jack snapped obtusely, grumbling.  “I’d rather stay with the kid than tote ‘Berry around town like I’m a damned tour guide.”  The soldier snorted derisively, as he passed the now clean glass pan under the flow of the tap to rinse the bubbles from it.  He shook his head, eyes on his task, as he added begrudgingly, “Besides, I’d just make an ass of myself.  You offered, you should go.  You’d know better where to take the lady than I would anyway.  I’m sure the library will interest her more than O’Malley’s.”

Daniel wasn’t sure what to make of this submission either.  Jack wasn’t normally like this and it was throwing the archeologist off.  Was Jack making concessions for his lover’s sake or more so for himself?  Either way it made the archeologist smirk.  Jack saw it too, as the scholar reached his hands into the sink to take a tea towel to the clean pan. 

Jack stopped what he was doing and looked boringly into Daniel’s face.  His features were almost stern, stone like, with those sable orbs of his blazing beneath the thick silver brows that were lowered over them.  The archeologist felt his teeth bite his bottom lip, almost as if his first instinct was to prepare for a scolding or another argument that promised to be more heated than the last.  Jack took a suds covered hand out of the water and pointed a finger at the brunette, as the soldier explained very slowly, “I do not want you taking this the wrong way, you hear me?  I have no problem watching over your kid, Daniel.  Not one iota.”

Daniel’s teeth released his bottom lip, as a warm smile spread across his face.  Those emphatic words melted his heart and sent most of the blood south.  It was one hell of a turn on to have the soldier make such a proclamation for the trouble and inconvenience the archeologist felt he had brought to the man’s doorstep.  Daniel dropped the towel, pushed the finger that was still pointed at him aside, and closed the small gap between them by taking the soldier around the middle once more.  He pressed his mouth against the firm line of his lover’s lips and felt the rigid them relent, part, and allow him entrance. 

The archeologist pulled at the hem of the cotton tee and his fingers were beneath it a moment later, running the length of the strong muscles of the soldier’s hips, back, and shoulders, just as he felt the other’s wet hands come to grasp his neck and jaw, holding their mouths together as they feverishly kissed.  Daniel felt the swell of his own erection press against the growing cock of his lover through their jeans, swaying his hips forward to apply more pleasurable pressure, moments before his own hands came down to undo the button on the fly, and then the zipper.  His fingers slipped past the stiff jean material of the opening, brushing over the now firm erection within the cotton boxer briefs beyond, when both men jumped, startled by a shrill bark from Farley. 

They froze.  Bodies still pressed close.  One bark and then nothing.  They both listened intently.  Neither spoke.  Then the scholar heard it, the rise of his daughter’s crying. 

“Dammit, Farley.” Jack grumbled.  He did up his fly as Daniel moved away from him to the bedroom where both had been put to sleep. 

Jack followed after him.  The scholar reached the bedroom and opened the door.  The golden retriever was standing near the bed, head on his paws beside Cindel.  His daughter was sitting up in bed, rubbing her eyes, body rocking with her sobs.  Daniel went towards the bed and the dog instinctively moved out of the way—the archeologist wondered if his animosity towards the creature at the moment was really that palpable.  He sat down on the bed where the dog had been, turning to gather his child up into his arms.  She resisted.  Her little body tensed and she shook her head, crying harder, as she screamed, “No, no!”  The only touch she allowed was for her father to soothingly rub her back. 

Daniel tried to talk to her, tried to reassure his child using both the English and Abydonian dialect.  It took a good ten minutes to settle her crying and when she had stopped she simply laid back down in the bed.  Her little body turned away from him and he couldn’t help but feel slighted and a little hurt.  He reached down and rubbed her back some more, only to realize that she was fast asleep.  His brows knit—sleepwalking…again? 

The scholar left her room, finding Jack casually propped in the door frame silently watching. There but not interceding.  As Daniel approached he pushed out of the way to allow him to pass and after the door was closed—Farley not in the room—the soldier said, “Sorry.  I put Farley outside.”

“Mm-hmm.” Daniel replied, mind still taxed with the incident and those similar in nature that had proceeded it. 

They walked back to the kitchen and took up finishing the dishes.  Jack pecked away at Daniel’s silence with little inquiring questions, managing throughout the next thirty minutes to glean on bits and pieces of information.  Yes, Cindel probably had not been woken fully by the one bark and seemed to have been in a similar state to sleep walking—which had happened previously.  Daniel was frustrated, yes.  Mad, no.  Yes, Farley would stay outside and chase around whatever it was that was teasing him.  Daniel didn’t mention the white face he had saw or Farley’s tucked tail retreat from the yard the other night.  It all seemed too strange…

“Shit! It’s eight!” Daniel cursed, after seeing the time on the microwave.  He tossed the tea towel aside, pecked Jack’s cheek, and scrambled from the kitchen.  His lover joined him at the door as the scholar scrambled to throw on his shoes and stuff his wallet into the pocket of his jeans—new ones Jack had bought him that week that fit a little too much like a glove for the scholar’s own taste.  Jack smacked his other cheek as he turned to open the door, saying wryly, “Be home by curfew and be careful with my truck.”

Daniel rolled his eyes in irritation, but was tactful enough not to allow the Colonel to see it.  Then he jumped in the dodge.  Driving was still somewhat of a relearned skill for the scholar.  It had been six years of riding nothing faster than a smelly mastadge and Jack’s truck was new and big.  Although he was in a hurry—already late to meet his colleague—he took his time, readjusting himself to the vehicle and the others he shared the road with.  He arrived at the Old Colorado City Public Library on Pikes Peak Avenue and drove around the damned building four times before he finally found a parking spot large enough for Jack’s Dodge to be comfortably parked by someone who avoided parallel parking at all costs.  Parking a jeep at camp in the dessert wasn’t nearly as particular as squeezing a behemoth truck into a city car-sized parking stall.

Then he raced up the steps to the large building.  Inside he found Delia sitting quietly in the history section, a pair of bright red plastic frames sitting on the bridge of nose as it was buried deep in the large text she read.  Daniel deliberately slowed his pace and took a cleansing breath, trying to make it look like he had not been running the whole way.  As he approached her finger went to the printed text, marking her spot, before she raised her head and smiled up at him.  “Hello, Dr. Jackson.”

The scholar was surprised at the tone she used in speaking his name, as though she were meeting with a fond friend she had known for years, and was even more shocked at the effortless way the voice had stripped him of his nerves and guilt for arriving, twenty minutes late.  Daniel sighed and returned the greeting, “Hello, Dr. Quisenberry.”  He tried to apologize for his tardiness and she stopped him, dismissing the formality entirely.  Daniel sat in the comfortable paisley upholstered chair beside hers and she closed the thick text she had been reading—something relating to the development of the Pentagon and the American Secret Service agencies—and turned to him with a cheeky grin.  “We don’t need to stay here, Dr. Jackson, the library will be closing soon.  Why don’t we go for a walk so I can see a little bit of the area with you?”

“That sounds fair.” Daniel said, amicably, rising once more from his spot.  He helped her gather the books she wished to loan and her purse.  They checked the texts out together and then proceeded out of the building.  The young woman directed him to her small red mazda to deposit the heavy reference material, before they began to do just as she had proposed.

They walked along the streets of the city, exploring the heart of the downtown art scene that seemed to attract the young woman’s free spirit, and the night grew chill.  The sun was dipped down past the mixed tops of high rises and original architecture, taking with it the heat of the late summer day, only to leave behind the faint orange glow of its light against the horizon.  Conversation passed easily between them.  Daniel learned much about his colleague’s time at university and of her affiliation with Professor Jordan’s research through her own supervising Professor, Dr. Yancer.  She pried little at his past and he returned the favor in kind, allowing much of their focus to remain on studies and digs, negotiating sand dunes in rickety jeeps, escaping sand storms, and dealing with a plethora of indigenous cultures, customs, and traditions.  The stories made them both laugh, as they passed little ma’ and pa’ stores selling organic or homemade wares, street vendors selling everything from ice cream to pizza, panhandlers, and street performers.  Soon it grew late.

The chill only increased with the time that had passed and Daniel had not thought to bring a jacket.  He hadn’t thought much when he had lit out of Jack’s house, already late for the meeting.  Now with the sun down and the street lamps lighting their path, he realized his folly, however, it was Delia that first verbalized the thought.  He offered to walk her back to her little mazda and she countered with an offer of coffee, as payment for his time and company.  The scholar didn’t have time to think twice about it.  There was a convenient shop on the corner, open late, with the odd scholarly looking individual nose deep in a book and a few lovey-dovey night owl couples holding hands beside their expressos.

The shop was warm, filled with the fragrant scents of different kinds of beans and the calorie counting kind of pastries that could make one salivate on the spot.  The archeologist took a seat at a small table pushed back in the corner, adjacent to a gas fire place.  He turned his chair so his back was to the heat and sat down.  He’d given the young woman his order and now watched as she paid, smiling warmly at the barista behind the counter.  Daniel loved how she smiled.

It hadn’t gone unnoticed earlier how that same pleasant smile had unnerved Jack’s glaring sarcasm.  That had been amusing.  It was also very satisfying confirmation in his selection for SG-1.  Her resume had been good but it had been the scrawled side notes that Professor Jordan had added that had won Dr. D. Quisenberry her number one contention.  Words like assertive, strong moral compass, and perfectionist had jumped off the page.  Seeing her now in the flesh and alongside the Colonel at his worst had solidified her position on the team in his mind.

This young woman he had just met gave off an off aura of familiarity.  The conversation, the mannerisms, the looks she gave made the linguist feel like they had known each other before.  If he had not thrown his academic career away to pursue his theories perhaps he would have been the supervising professor this fiery red head would have worked under.  It would have been an amicable arrangement.  She was a student worth investing in.  She seemed open minded, assiduous, dedicated, and astute.  She also was very pleasant of nature, strangely capable of a very graceful assertiveness, and there was no denying that she was very pleasing on the eyes.  She carried herself well and obviously took care to remain healthy and fit. He had noticed how Jack had lavished her with lingering looks that seemed to stall around her fair sized breasts.  In truth, he too had noticed how the fabric of that particular blouse accentuated and framed her bosom and now was no different. 

Dressed down slightly from their meeting earlier today, the young doctor had exchanged the skirt for dark boot cut denim, which added length to her smaller stature, and she sported a smart leather blazer over an emerald tee that lit her eyes.  Yet it had been the glasses that had first caught his attention.  Those candy-apple-red plastic rims seemed tangerine on the inside and was beautifully complimented by marshmallow-white temples that gave the whites of her eyes a vibrant glow.  They were by far the most pleasing accessory she had on.

Admiring her glasses reminded the archeologist of his own shabby pair.  They had managed to weather the six years on Abydos still intact.  He had kept on top of the screws, tightening them every now and then so he didn’t lose one.  The rounded shape of the lenses was out of style now, he could see that plain as day when he compared them with Delia’s sexy reds, and the lenses were a little scuffed and worn.  He would have to make a point of getting to an optometrist for an exam and then order himself something more fitting.  Perhaps tomorrow he would take Cindel with him and get her eyes checked as well.

The doctor soon returned and took the wooden chair opposite Daniel, passing him his pumpkin spiced latte as she dumped her purse beside her chair.  The cup was invitingly warm in his hands and smelled of what the fostered-child had always assumed a real home should smell like.  The home he had created for his daughter never had.  It had always been filled with the strong aroma of sage, sand, and spice—pumpkin pie an unrealistic expectation.  That had all changed though.  He could give Cindel that now, here on Earth.

The red head took a tentative sip from her own chocolate drizzled whip cream topped cup and ended up with a bit of the fluffy white cream on the tip of her turned up nose.  She cuckled embarrassedly, her cheeks flushing, as she darted a small hand up to swipe away the evidence of her blunder.  Daniel thought his counterpart was awfully cute—and young.  She would be a great refresher for Jack, who’s cynicism hadn’t improved with age.  After recovering her composure, the pink cheeked archeologist tried to sweep the incident under the proverbial rug, plowing full force into another conversation.  “And who has your little girl this evening, Daniel?”

“Cindel’s at home with Jack.” He answered automatically, truthfully, and then froze.  _Shit!_

Red eyebrows arched curiously, as her already flushed cheeks grew a deeper shade, and _that_ thought crossed her mind.  “Oh, that’s nice.” She said, casually taking a sip of her latte.  After swallowing she simply asked, “Are you two together then?”

The comment had been made with complete understanding and acceptance, simply a yes or no question that had been uttered as though they had been long-time friends casually catching up.  The scholar wasn’t necessarily worried about her thoughts on the matter of one man finding love with another, which she did seem to be more than accepting of.  He was worried about the base, the soldiers, SG-1, and the Vashen—the invasion.  They couldn’t give up their ability to operate within the SGC even for the relationship they were redeveloping in this new time line—there was far more important things at stake—and that poignant thought concern hit home now more than ever.  She must have seen that he was floundering to respond—the wheels that were turning in his head to back pedal the conversation slow and sputtering—for she looked abashed, leaned back in her chair, and apologized, saying, “I’m sorry, that wasn’t very appropriate.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” Daniel suddenly stammered, giving a big smile.  Trying to amend this new sentence spluttered, he amended using Jack’s cover story, “I am staying with the Colonel.  We are old friends.  My wife was…just passed.  House fire.  Jack was kind enough to take us in so we weren’t left to the mercy of the insurance company.”

The young woman made a clucking sound and averted those golden-green eyes.  In a low voice, she addressed the dour new topic, “I am terribly sorry for your loss, Dr. Jackson.  I had no idea.”

“Thank you, but it’s quite alright.  You had no way of knowing.” The archeologist said to appease his colleagues’ obvious guilt.  He wanted to say more, wanted to clarify the living arrangement with even more well intentioned unthruths, but his teeth remained set.  He drank his latte instead, the aroma of the pumpkin spices now somehow less settling than before.

The red headed young woman did the same, sipping daintily from her own ceramic mug, eyes still distant.  Daniel felt about as awkward as he had when he’d spent those first few hours with the soldiers in the heat of the Adydonian sun, when they all thought they were hopelessly stranded.  This seemed far more trivial, and perhaps for Delia it was, yet the heart of the matter made the scholar’s own stomach flip.  They couldn’t risk anything. 

The last couple of days had been a welcomed reprieve from thinking of the Vashen—the alien race that he had seen murder his friends and plot to plunder earth of its resources, despite all the inhabitants.  He in truth hadn’t thought of them much in the last six years, willingly.  It had always been a subject the scholar had trained to banish.  The memories, so vivid and real even still, re-witnessed in his persistent nightmares, always made him feel short of breath and nauseous.  Having this new Sam around, Jack back, and earth under his feet again had made the time shift seem eons behind him.  This reminded him that it was now before him again, a danger lurking in the unknown future that the two of them had intentionally recreated.  The Vashen were still out there.  They would still need to be stopped and earth would still need to be saved.

Delia’s eyes captured his once more, calm and confident, an intense gaze given the unique golden coloring that marked her pretty green irises, demanding direct contact.  She slowly brought her cup inches away from her small mouth, her chin tilted upwards ever so slightly to give her an air of fortitude that the man so admired about her, and coolly she continued the conversation, as if it had never snagged, “The Colonel has surprised me.  He is not at all what I expected.”

“He means no harm.” Daniel was quick to assure her, with a warm smile.  Then quickly shrugged and rectified his automatic answer, “Well, very little harm at any rate.  He is a man set in his ways, greatly influenced by his time with the Air Force.  That’s why with such exploration as we are endeavoring to make we are being used to temper those mentalities, to balance the playing field, and bring more diplomacy and understanding to the table.  We really had no idea what or who we would meet when we stepped through the stargate the first time and every other gate will be the same.”

That million dollar smile crossed the rouged lips, the creamy lip stick glistening in the low lit atmosphere of the tiny café.  She looked at him from under a dark rim of lashes, those eyes half hooded, as she nearly purred the words, “Carpe diem.”

“Something like that.” Daniel agreed and they shared another smile.


	31. Chapter 31

His lover’s mouth was soft, warm, and deliciously wet.  The soldier felt his swollen member slipping past the soft parting of lips, to slide over the rough tickling tongue as half of him sank deep into the archeologist’s mouth.  Jack rocked his hips softly, loving the pressure created by his lover’s suckling.  He closed his eyes, savored the pleasure.  He could feel the silken length of Daniel’s coffee colored hair between his fingers, in the grasp of his knuckles.  The younger man allowed him to set the pace, allowed him to lose himself to the sweeping wave of arousal that was slowly drowning him as he pulled his cock in and out.

Jack moaned, as the he felt his climax approaching. The sound soon echoed by his lover, the vibrations satisfyingly erotic as they reverberated around his member deep between the other’s lips.  He thrust harder and faster, all accepted eagerly by the linguist. His knuckles tightening against the scalp as the pressure of his coming release became emanate and just before his body let go he pulled back.  Sucking in a sharp inhalation he grit his teeth and kept the orgasm from coming.

When he opened his eyes again Daniel wasn’t there.  He was surrounded by darkness, he was naked, and suddenly chilled.  His skin lit with goosebumps, his erection went flaccid, and his eyes strained to see through the blackness.  Blind he waved his hands cautiously about himself, exploring his immediate surroundings.  His fingers tapped the floor beneath his haunches.  He laid his palms flat on what felt like cold stainless steel plating, free of joints or rivets.  He waved his hands in front of himself, then all around and felt nothing but air.  He took a tentative step forward, did the same, and found nothing.  Again, nothing.  Again…and still nothing.

“Daniel!” he called.

The sound of his voice reverberating off of the walls and echoing away from him gave the soldier the distinct feeling that he was in a tunnel, which before him the blackness stretched onward, but not far to the side or behind him.  He took another step forward, raising his hands above his head as he slowly rose to his feet.  He could stand and reach his hands high above him and still touch nothing.  He brought his hands forward again and this time they found something.  There was a sizzle and then a pop, a bright flash of red grid lines which lit and grew intensely white towards the tip of his touch before finally zapping him with some kind of electrical charge.  He let out a sharp cry as the jolt blasted him back off of his feet in a flail of limbs that landed him flat on his bare ass on the cold floor.  Half his forearm up to his palm burned but his fingers were numb.  As he swore and cradled the injured member in towards his body the digits felt blazing hot. 

Jack realized suddenly, still in the middle of the surreal prison, that he was dreaming.  He was cognoscente enough to wonder when he had last dreamt of that hellish place they had been kept by those white faced alien bastards.  Where Teal’c had been killed and Carter dissected…

Then she was there.  A figure materializing out of the darkness, swathed in creamy silk gowns trimmed in gold and scarlet, throat dripping with jewels of every color.  The graceful hourglass shape of her body was accented by the gold rope that tied the shimmering fabric in place under her ample bosom, the flow of the dresses folds over her legs adding length.  Her hair was half pulled back in braids that let loose into a wild array of curls that framed her head like a dark halo.  Her lips were pouted into a full rose bud, pinked by some cosmetic only at their center, and above her straight thin nose her almond shaped eyes were rimmed in thick kohl that swept out at the corner to give the face he recognized an unfamiliar cat-like appearance.  He waited for those dark umber eyes to flash with the horrid white that betrayed the parasite inside, in complete control, but they didn’t. 

Those eyes of hers scanned the soldier, devoid of what he might have expected to be a woman’s response to the sudden sight of a naked man.  More calculating and observing than realistic, as though she had never seen one before and was curious as to how it all worked.  He felt like a lab rat under that cold detached gaze.

“Where is he?” came the voice out of his friend’s wife’s body—voice that was not hers, was not Amunet’s.  It sounded strangely hoarse and gravely, deeper and far more guttural than the soldier had ever know any female to utter.  It made the hairs rise on the back of his neck—even though he still recognized, even now, that he was dreaming.  The head cocked to an odd angle, like a bird twitches its head to the side.  “Where is my Dan’yel?”

The Colonel’s eyes opened and he light of the lamp in the living room was irritatingly bright.  He closed them and tried to bring his hand up to rub his face only to have it light with pins and needles.  He remembered that he was on the couch in the living room, that he had been watching whatever the hell was on TV waiting for Daniel to get his ass back home from his damn date—he must have fallen asleep. 

“You—,” the sound of a voice speaking spooked the shit out of the soldier and he was suddenly bolt upright on the couch, eyes wide and legs ready to propel him forward for the attack.  His mind caught up—oh, just the kid.  Relax.  “Cindel…you’re awake…” he managed to mumble.

“You said Daddy’s name in your sleep.” She simply stated, from where she sat cross legged on the coffee table before him.  “Daddy says your name sometimes too.  Why do you do that?”

“Ugh…well,” he said, leaning back into the couch cushions and scratching his ruffled hair.  _Talk about fucking awkward.  Can the kid make things any harder for crying out loud..._  “it’s just…ugh, something that you do when you get old.”

“Oh,” she said, sounding a little perplexed by this notion.  It didn’t stall her for long.  “Do you know where my daddy is?  I can’t find him.”

“He’s probably in the other bedroom, sleeping.” Jack replied, with a long yawn.

“Your bedroom?” she asked, sounding slightly incredulous, as those bright blue eyes of her father’s stared at the soldier.

Jack nodded, rubbing his hand over his face, and smartly replied, “Yeah, my bedroom.  He’s been sleeping in there, remember?  I sleep here on the couch.”

The little bird shook her head, sending loose black ringlets in every direction over her shoulders, as she answered, “Nope.  Daddy’s not in there.”  As Jack considered this answer and tried to deduce where else the little bird’s damned father might be hiding, she continued, prattling away as she counted on her fingers, “He’s not in the kitchen, not in the bathroom, not in my room, and he’s not here.”

The soldier considered whether or not her observation was credible as he realized that he hadn’t any reason to suspect that Daniel had actually returned.  His eyes darted to the flat screen television as he snatched the remote that had fallen from his hand to the floor when he apparently had drifted off.  He directed the guide to pop up on the screen, noting with great dissatisfaction that it was two 0200 hours.  “Shit,” he cursed, thumbing his bottom lip, as his brows knit with frustration.  It wasn’t like Daniel to stay out late without informing him…at least he hoped it wasn’t.

“Shit-balls.” The little bird mimicked in a huff, planting her chin on her fist as she hunched over her crossed legs on the top of his coffee table.  When he glanced across at her in disbelief those blue eyes crinkled along with her grin.  As if she were being tested, she held out one open palmed hand and complained, “What the fuck?”

The soldier’s brows narrowed at the fouled mouthed little bird.  As he got to his feet, he tightened the belt on his robe, and pointed a warning finger at the little curly headed girl, enforcing, “That is no language for you to be using young Lady.  You’re too damned cute to start swearing.”  Those blue orbs narrowed at him and she huffed, contemptuously, but kept silent.  Jack went to the front door and checked quickly outside for the truck.  The driveway was empty and the keys were missing from the hook by the door.  Jack stood there a while, befuddled, scratching the back of his head as he tried to consider what to do next. 

Sure the kid wanted her father but she wasn’t going to die without him and the soldier damn well that he was more than capable of taking care of her until he returned.  But where in the hell had the archeologist gone and why hadn’t he returned.  Jack marched down to the bedroom only to find that it was indeed empty.  The bed was still made.  When he turned around the little bird was there watching him, eyes now wide with questions seeking an answer from him.

The soldier walked past the child and into the kitchen, finding it perfectly empty the way he had left it earlier.  He stood there thinking, mind racing, finally kick started into gear after the dream and the sudden awakening, and he felt a warm little hand grip the first two fingers of his hand.  Instinctively he glanced down at her, even though he knew he didn’t want to see the fear beginning to register in those large blue orbs.  

“I told you,” the little girl said in an annoyed voice, which bordered on cracking, “he’s not here.  I’ve looked already.”

Jack sighed.  She was right and although he hated that fact it was the truth.  Now what?  He moved towards the fridge and opened the door.  There was just enough milk left in the plastic 2L for a couple of bowls of cereal.  He nabbed the jug out and swung the door closed.  Then he grabbed two bowls from the cupboard and when he turned around to get the silverware out of the drawer he seen that the little bird had beaten him to it.  They sat down together at the table, moving in silence towards the same goal—relaxing and feeding their guts to drown the worry.  They were all out of Fruit Loops so they moved onto the Captain Crunch and as they chewed the first couple of mouthfuls, the little bird paused and thanked him. 

Jack nodded and shrugged his shoulders, shoveling another big spoonful of the sugary cereal into his mouth. His eyes drifted over the girl’s dark mop of black curls to the clock on the stove.  2:17 am.  Where in the hell had Daniel disappeared to?  The soldier contemplated what he was going to do to his lover once her returned home as he crunched on a few more mouthfuls.  If he came home smelling of rose water he was going to rip the clothes right off of the bastard and throttle his arse until it was bright red—even though in the back of his mind he knew this would be unlikely.  Knowing Daniel, the brat probably wasn’t wearing a watch and had no clue how late it was, stuck nose deep in some dusty old reference text about something archeology related with that hot red head right in the thick of it with him.

Half way through the cereal, the silence between them was first broken by the child.  Eyes cast downward at the bowl of cereal that she stirred with the little spoon, she commented, “I dreamed of mama.”

That caught the soldier’s attention.  He wasn’t sure he wanted to tackle the subject now that it had been raised—he wasn’t exactly good at dealing with death himself and he too had seen the beautiful woman while he had slept.  He glanced askance at the little girl, who’s blue gaze was on him now.  He wasn’t sure if she was waiting for his response or calculating what to say next.  Finally the Colonel swallowed his mouthful and said, “Oh, yeah?”

The girl nodded, eyes returning back to the nearly empty bowl in front of her.  She let the spoon go in the bowl and pushed back the curls from her eyes, as she continued in a quiet but steadfast voice, “She was wearing such a beautiful dress that sparkled like it had stars sewn into it and her hair was pulled back the way that daddy use to say he liked.  She had a very pretty necklace too.  I miss her.”

Jack hoped to hell that because the last sentence had been a statement that it was his get out of dealing with this drama free-card.  He didn’t know what the fuck to say to the poor kid!  Her mom was dead, along with the entire city of Nagada!  Thousands of lives worthlessly lost!  It sucked no matter how you looked at it but she had to deal with it—and he wasn’t sure how she was doing with that.  Was talking about it a good sign or bad one?  He could remember something about the seven steps of dealing with a loss but he’d shut that shit out a long time ago—it wasn’t his way.

After Charlie had died he had shut down and shut out—even Sara.  It was what had driven the two of them apart.  He had been torn by guilt—had had been his gun, his bullet—and seeing her pain only made things worse.  Of course he wanted to punish himself and in the end it had hurt her too.  Yet it had brought him to the SGC and ultimately to Daniel.  How that man had managed to stick through his bullshit attitude to fix what his grieving had fucked up he would never know.  What he did was that the archeologist was a part of him now.  The part that kept him going, kept him moving forward, onward, upwards.  He wasn’t sure how to convey that to the girl.  How could he show her that her father would get her through this?  That she would make it and that dealing with traumatic loss would get easier?

The kid had kind of acted normal so far, as though she had up until now been unfazed by the trauma.  Apparently under all that bubbly excitement the pain still lingered.  That made him hurt.  She was still so little, still innocent, still breakable.  It wasn’t fucking fair.  It sucked.

“Your mom was a pretty lady.” He was suddenly saying, “She deserved all of that stuff and yet would have never accepted it because that’s just the kind of woman she was.  Your dad is like her too.  He’s good.  And he’s going to always be there for you.”

Those eyes flashed up at him, suddenly glassy, brimming with tears.  Her little white teeth sunk into her bottom lip to keep it from trembling and Jack had to steel himself to watch her muster that kind of resolve.  “And you, Jack?”

The man was struck with this question, his heart feeling like it was about to explode.  He nodded his head strongly and fervently reassure the little bird, “Damn straight.”  THe little girl flew out of the chair and leaped onto his lap.  He barley had time to catch her.  She wrapped her arms around his neck, strangle hold firm, as she niffed back the sobs that threatened to break within her.  She was strong.  She didn’t want to cry.  She would make it.

They stayed like that for a long while.  He rubbed her back and just waited.  She eventually let go and turned on his lap to face the table.  She nabbed her bowl from where she had left it and dumped more cereal into it.  Then she filled Jack’s.  “Let’s wait for daddy to come home together.” She said, making herself comfortable.

“Sure thing, kid.” He replied.

It wasn’t five minutes later that the house phone rang.  Cindel jumped down, crying out, “Is it daddy?” as the Colonel went to pick up the receiver from the cradle by the microwave.

“Hello?” Jack said into the receiver.

“Hi, is this Colonel O’Niell?” asked the feminine voice on the other end.

His shoulders dropped.  “It is.” The man replied, impatiently, “It’s damn near three in the morning, what the hell do you want?”

“It’s Delia, sir, Dr. Quisenberry,” the voice stumbled to say, sounding nervous or agitated somehow.

The red head may have been about to say more but Jack cut her off, with a sharp bark, “Where the hell is Dr. Jackson, ‘Berry?”

“I was hoping he was there…with you.” Replied to resigned voice on the other end.

“Well, he’s not.” The Colonel curtly informed her.  Increasingly annoyed with the entire situation he pointed at the receiver and tried not to yell as he demanded, “You better start talking!  What the hell happened?”

 


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so happy to be posting agian! ^///^; Life kinda ran away with me. Works been busy. I've been sick *cough cough* and of course the kids have been sick *hack, cough, sneeze...snot--Kleenx!!!!* So, I am so so so so soooooooooo glad to finally be posting another chapter for you guys! Please leave me a note on your thoughts! I hope to be wrapping this up sooner rather than later lol

“Okay, okay,” she said, in a voice that border on panicking.  He could hear her swallow and then in a rush she began a rambling narrative.  “We ended up grabbing a latte later in the evening and we talked for a long time.  It was getting late and I excused myself to use the washroom.  When I returned he was…just gone.  It just thought he was an asshole and had completely blown me off—so after waiting around for thirty minutes, looking like an idiot, I left.  It took me a long fucking time to find my way back to where I had parked my car—damn downtown layout is messed—and I saw that…that the truck he’d said he had driven was still there, by my car.  He wasn’t there.  I drove back to the café but it was closed.  I’m not sure what the hell happened, so I called the house number Daniel had given me, hoping he was there.”

‘Berry was a little strung out.  The explanation had been a rant, shaking here and there with nerves, but as far as the Colonel could tell was honest.  Jack looked for clarification, “So, my truck is still there empty?”

“Big black dodge?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Still right here in front of me.” Came the snappy response.

“Shit.” Jack cursed, mind racing. _What the fuck?_

“This is strange, right?” asked the voice on the other end, seeking justification for her palpable fear.

“Yes, ‘Berry, it’s not fucking right, okay!” he bellowed into the phone at the panicking female.  “Daniel is not the sort of person to blow people off.  Something’s happened.  Something is wrong!” There was a pause in the conversation, until the thought struck him, “Was anything of his left behind?  Did anyone see him leave?”

“No,” She replied, quickly, her voice a little steadier with handling the direct questions.  “He didn’t have anything with him and there was no one else in the café then, except the barista who had been in the back room organizing stock.  Girl said that she didn’t even hear the door buzzer ring to alert her that it had opened.”

“Maybe it didn’t…” Jack spoke that last thought aloud.

“What?”

“Nothin’!  Just get your ass over here, ‘Berry, so we can go through this piece by piece.” He demanded.

“I’ll never find the—,”

“I’ll give you directions, just get in your vehicle and get your ass over here.  Now!”

“But the truck—,”

“Screw the truck!” Jack screamed into the phone, about read to shake it in his frustration.  “If Daniel is going to show up anywhere it will be here!”  He hung up the phone.  Cursed and sighed irritably.  Then he checked the caller ID, called the doctor back, and gave her directions, somehow managing not to swear at her again.

“Where’s daddy, Jack?” the little bird asked, the minute that the soldier had hung the phone up for the second time.

“I don’t know.” He sighed.

The stubborn little girl stamped her foot, balled her wee hands into fists at her sides, and with those blue eyes blazing up at him she yelled, “Where’s my daddy?!”

The Colonel dropped to one knee in front of her and seized her little arms in his hands.  She fought the contact, angry and scared, but he tightened his grip and held her firm.  Forcing her to look at him, he tried to explain, “I don’t know, Cindel, but I promise you that I am going to find him.”

“He’s gone!” she screamed back at him, eyes narrowed under fierce glowering brows, “Shova!  I hate him!  He’s gone just like mama!  He left me!”

“He’s not gone!” Jack yelled back at her, his voice loud, firm, and commanding, as he gave her body a shake to knock some sense back into her.  “I’m going to find him and you are going to help me.”

Tears overwhelmed her lashes and slid down her cheeks, even though she stubbornly glowered back into his face.  “I couldn’t help mama.” She stated in a menacing voice, full of self-loathing and deprivation.

“You can help me.” The man reinforced, in a whisper, “I need you to help me.”

“How?” she asked, the word coming out of her broken, as her brows lifted to reveal the full depth of her pain and sadness wrought on her tiny features. 

“I need you to be strong.  To be a big girl and understand that I am going to do everything within my power to get your dad back to you.  Back here, where he belongs.”

“Okay.” She said with a big nod of her small head.  The soldier let her arms go and she swiped away the wetness under her eyes.

“Clean up the dishes on the table and put the cereal away.” Jack instructed her, as he began to dial the phone again.

The little bird jumped to obey, trotting away to complete her task, as the receiver rang against his ear.  He didn’t care what time it was.  He wanted Carter here to help.  It didn’t take the young Captain long to get to his door after he had explained the situation.  She was faster than ‘Berry and they sat together at the table, drinking a freshly brewed pot of coffee, and discussing what they knew.

Jack readjusted the girl on his knee, as she colored in a Winnie the Pooh coloring book with her new smelly markers, and answered Carter’s question with the same answer he’d given the last three times.  “I don’t know.”

She pursed her lips and brought her brows together in consternation over her contemplative eyes.  Finally she looked back, first at the kid scribbling in her book and then to the Colonel, suggesting, “I still don’t think we can do much from here, sir.  We should really notify the police and head to the base.  If it does have anything to do with the mysterious object I picked up then we have to recheck my telemetry data.”

“I’m reluctant to do that.” He replied, pushing back the girl’s curls from his chin.  Mouth full of her hair, he patted the girl’s side and instructed, “Jump down, Cindel, and run to the bathroom and get a hair tie.”

“Are we going to the base?” she asked, as she swung her legs around and dropped her feet to the floor.

“Maybe.  Just go get the tie, okay?”

“Okay.”

The Colonel watched the little girl scamper out of the room and then answered Carter with a more thorough answer.  “We don’t know that he’s technically missing yet.  I don’t wanna get the police involved.”

Carter shrugged her shoulders in the grey lululemon sweater and she replied, “In all honesty, sir, I don’t think that you have a choice.  If this kind of behaviour is out of character for Daniel then the best thing that you can do is involve the authorities.  The more people we have looking for him the better.  Especially if you suspect foul play.”

Jack gave a grating sigh of resignation.  “Fuck,” he cursed.

The doorbell rang.  Farley barked from the backyard and Cindel ran to the front door, yelling, “I’ll get it!”  The Colonel heard ‘Berry at the door even before he came out of the kitchen and leaning against the jam he gave her a short greeting, before motioning her to join them at the table.  The red head came in and sat down opposite Carter, exchanging a polite salutation with her fellow team mate, as Cindel followed him to his own seat.  As he sat down she handed him to tie and turned to proffer her unruly mane of curls to him.  He grabbed the curls with his thumb and forefinger and proceeded to wrap the tie around, as he updated the doctor, “We haven’t decided much, ‘Berry.”  With the hair fastened at the base of the kid’s neck the little girl jumped back up onto his knee, and he moved her to his right so the soldier could see both woean seated with him.  In his own frustration he acridly added, “I suppose you didn’t happen to see Daniel on your way over.”

“Oh, yeah, he totally flipped me the bird and then ducked back into the bushes.” the woman replied, slightly perturbed by his sarcasm.

“Can you explain again what happened, Dr. Quisenberry?” Carter asked, focusing the suddenly derailed conversation, in a tone that brokered no more nonsense.

‘Berry gave the schpeal all over again, with some more detail and no swearing this time round.  When she had finished, Carter inquired, “How long were you in the bathroom?”

“Long enough to piss and wash my hands.” Came the snappy response, “No more than four minutes.  Tops.”

“It’s long enough for Daniel to have left the café but even if he was forced against his will four minutes is cutting it pretty close.” Sam began to theorize aloud.  “I mean, threatening takes a little bit of time.  Unless they were watching for Delia to leave even then I can’t really see how someone could have come in and forced Daniel out in that kind of time frame, without making a scene that the barista would have noticed.”

“Then he left of his own volition?” ‘Berry stated, sounding incredulous.

“Not exactly.” Sam replied, looking lost in thought.  “It just means that it’s unlikely he was taken by someone that he didn’t know.”

“Daniel wouldn’t have left ‘Berry there in the shitter and taken off with someone, even he did know them.” Jack corrected.  “He’s not a jack-ass.”

“What’s a jack-ass?” Cindel curiously inquired, without stopping her work in the coloring book.

“It’s something I never wanna’ hear you repeat.” Jack leaned down over the kid’s shoulder and said into her ear.

“That’s not true either.” Sam objected.

“Ah, c’mon, Carter you know Daniel.” The Colonel countered, picking up his coffee and taking a long swig of the hot dark brew.

“I do and I still say it’s not.” She argued, continuing to explain her sound reasoning, “In an emergency situation people throw courtesy aside.  What if he thought that CIndel was in danger?  He may have just up and left.”

“That’s complete conjecture though.” ‘Berry said, looking between the two of them skeptically.  “We are just grasping at straws now.  He could have left for any number of reasons then, whether it was of his own volition or not.  This is getting us nowhere.”

“That’s why we should inform the police and head to the base.” Carter reiterated her original plan.  “We can’t do anything from here and we need more eyes out there looking for him.  If this is suspicious we need to inform the General what has happened.  We have to accept that this could compromise the entire SGC program.”

“Dammit,” Jack cursed, with a sigh.  Then with a grumble he ordered, “Fine, Carter, let’s head to the base.  You too, ‘Berry.”

“Me too, Jack?” Cindel asked, hopefully, turning on his knee to look back at him. 

The soldier wanted to say no, didn’t want her anywhere near that ‘gate, but he knew she was safer there, with him.  “Yeah, you too.” He answered, pushing the chair back from the table and letting her slip to the floor.  “Go get out of your pj’s and put a change of clothes into your bag.  We may be there a while.”

The little girl scampered off, both females watching her with compassion written on their features.  They packed the kid up and Jack left a note on the door just in case Daniel magically returned home and this all turned out to be a fluke mistake.  Then they filed an official missing person’s report with the local police and headed to the base.  It was 4 am.  The soldier carried the slumbering little bird into the SGC and left her to sleep in her uncle’s quarter’s.  The he went with ‘Berry and Sam to Carter’s lab to scour her data again, hoping to hell they could find some kind of clue hidden in the space telemetry that might point them to where ever the hell it was that Daniel had disappeared to.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little something, ya know, to make up for being so absent lately ^_- Hope you enjoy the next chapter.  
> <3<3<3

“Fifty bucks says T’s doin’ her.”

“I’m not betting with you, Jack.”

“That’s because you know you’d lose.” The Colonel whispered wryly from his sleeping back beside Daniel in the tent.

They’d heard some tell-tale noises coming from the tent adjacent to their own.  The walls were thin and the night was deathly silent.  They’d both been awake, still settling from their own muffled foray.  Daniel wasn’t about to jump to conclusions, although he agreed with Jack’s initial suspicions.  The archeologist had felt that Sam and Teal’c had been seeing one another on a more intimate level for at least the last couple of months.  He’d seen his teammate giving the tall black man extra-long looks that made her cheeks pink and Teal’c’s gaze in reciprocation seemed to follow the Major whenever she left the room.  Yet he wasn’t about to indulge in Jack’s gambling—not on this.

The planet was cold that night.  It was part of the reason why the archeologist had ended up in his lover’s sleeping bag and the same reason why the scholar didn’t blame his teammates for sharing their body heat either.  He would rather bet with Jack that by morning the water in their canteens would be frozen.  It was that damn cold outside.

There was another rustling from the direction of their comrades’ tent and Daniel could just about hear Jack’s grin streching.  “He’s boning her.” Came the crude statement, triumphant as all hell.

“Go back to sleep, Jack.” Daniel warned, through a yawn.

Their banter came to an abrupt hault as a sudden shower of bright light lit their encampment.  Even without his glasses on the archeologist could see the sharp contrast of shadows cast by its brilliance bathing the tent.

“Holy shit!” Jack cursed, clambering from the tangle of his sleeping bag.  “Who turned on the flood lights?”

Daniel reached for his glasses and threw them onto his face, as he scrambled to free himself from the bedding.  Beginning to throw his clothes on he watched as Jack ran from the tent half-dressed and gear in tow.  Once Daniel got his boots on he lit out after his lover.

The light was so bright that the archeologist was forced to shield his eyes.  It was hard to tell what it was coming from, but whatever it was it was big and loud.  They could hear a loud whirring that cast a wind down on them, like the hum of a strong engine.  The lights were slowly moving away from their location and once they were partially blocked by the spires of spruce that enclosed their camp the scholar was able to lower his hands and get a better look.  He couldn’t make out much between the darkness and the light but it was enough to tell him that it was some kind of alien space craft, descending, possibly to land in the open meadow beyond the trees.

“Get your crap, let’s go!” Jack was ordering.

The sound of the space craft was still deafening, even as it moved away, and he quickly did as he was instructed, making sure that he had what he needed still in his utility vest.  Sam and Teal’c were there then, fully geared and on the run alongside them.  They followed the Colonel into the trees, the underbrush hindering their progress.  The lights were still visible in the sky above, making the tops of the reaching spruce silver.  They had to use their own flash lights to see where they were going and even so Daniel caught his boot on an exposed root, nearly falling into the needle ridden dirt.  If it hadn’t of been for the Jaffa’s quick reflexive nab of his elbow he may have.

By the time they were coming to the edge of the meadow the flood lights had died.  Hiding in the brush that protectively surrounded the clearing they watched as the massive ship slowly uncoiled landing gear from beneath its sickle shaped wings.  Sam had her night vision binoculars up to her eyes tracking the soft decent.  The flood lights were out, replaced by smaller green-hued colors that ran the perimeter of the oval shaped main deck.  Their light was minimal in contrast to the brilliance of the floodlights. 

The sound of the ships engines was also minimal in comparison yet like a helicopter the downdraft was incredible.  It pushed back everything from the center of the landing space craft, even the thick trunked spruce trees swayed from the force.  The three pronged bird-like feet touched down without a sound and then the engine died, the whirring giving way to a choppy rotor sound that eventually cut all together. 

“Any idea who that is, Major?” Jack asked, in a hushed whisper.

“No, sir,” she replied, still scanning the space craft with the binoculars, “There are no identifying markers in sight.”

“It is not Goa’uld.” Teal’c surmised quickly.

“It’s not Asgard or Tollan either.” The archeologist offered.

“We will go with the assumption then that these guys are new.” Jack replied, dryly, sounding aggravated to have to state what he thought was the obvious.

The craft itself seemed different to Daniel in many ways from other aliens ships that they had encountered in the past, thus heightening his expectations of meeting a new race.  The main hull was disc shaped narrowing towards the perimeter as though it were simply two pie plates upended on one another, with the two sickle shaped wings that came off of the front and curved with the shape of the hull until they ended in points.  The entirety of the thing was massive, comparable in size to one of America’s sports domes, no doubt capable of holding just as many humans inside.  The meadow was large but the hulk of the ship consumed most of the open ground as it settled.  With the feet stabilized on the terrain the massive hull gave off a high pitched whistling, like a train releasing steam, and then the bulking body of the ship began to lower, retracting the landing gear within itself.  When it had finally stopped only the toes of the landing gear were visible beneath the belly of the ship.  Still it seemed to be at least ten meters from the ground.

The lights around the perimeter of the disc shaped body began to change, shifting in colors like the northern lights danced in the night sky, flashing pinks, purples, and teal-greens that bordered on yellow at times.  These lights were much softer than the flood lights that had been used to guide the craft to the landing zone, and were pretty in comparison.  They didn’t hinder their view of the ship.  Then there was a loud blaring sound that reverberated out from the massive craft, like a giant tuba blasting a single long note.  Then a sharp blue light was cast down from the middle of the underbelly, forming a cone shaped beam that made a circle on the ground beneath it.  There was a flash of white light and then all light below the vessel disappeared.

“I have a visual, sir.” Sam informed them, “looks like eighteen, no twenty two subjects are on the ground and moving north east.”

“A recon unit?” Jack suggested, looking for clarification.

“Possibly, sir,” the Major answered her CO.  “I don’t see any weapons and they are moving at a moderate pace into the trees.”

“We should go and—,” Daniel tried to say, rising to his feet.  A dextrous hand nabbed his jacket and hauled him roughly back to the ground, throwing him off balance and landing him on his back in the brush and bramble.

“Just hang on a bloody minute.” Jack hissed in annoyance, not bothering to help the archeologist back up onto his haunches.

“They appear to be fairly peaceful, O’Niell.  Should we not do as DanielJackson has suggested and attempt to make relations with this species?” Teal’c offered, grabbing the scholar’s hand and hauling his fallen team mate back upright.

“It’s just an awfully big ship to send for recon.” Jack countered, voicing his skepticism aloud, as his narrowed eyes traced the outline of the new vessel before them.  “I’d feel more comfortable if we hung back for a while to see exactly what these guys are up to before we waltz on up and shake hands with ‘em.”  The Colonel’s face twitched into a smirk and he leaned closer to his subordinate and the night vision specs, asking, “Do they even have hands, Carter?”

The woman pulled the binoculars back from her crinkled eyes, pursed her lips.  She shrugged her shoulders.  Her mouth drew into an amused smile as she honestly replied, “I can’t really tell.”

“They are humanoid though?” the scientist inquired of his peer, his interest in the species enticed by his lover’s comment.  Daniel readjusted his glasses on his nose and specified, “Bipedal?”

“Definitely walking upright, possibly an average height of 6 foot, thinner than human though.” Sam began to elaborate on the description of their new neighbors, as she put the binoculars back to her gaze, watching the aliens disappear into the brush filled perimeter.  “White translucent skin—if it is skin—and some kind of luminescent glow, pinks, purples, greens, and blues, coming from something around the back of the head.”

“A helmet maybe?” Daniel pushed for a better descriptor.

“Nope.  I’m pretty sure it’s a part of the actual head.” The female soldier answered, “They don’t appear to be wearing anything.”

“Isn’t it a little chilly to be out in the buff?” Jack asked sarcastically, with a cluck of his tongue against his cheek.  “Brave bastards.”  Then with a sigh, the Colonel pointed at Teal’c and the Major, ordering, “We will split up.  You two stay here with the ship.  Report any activity.  Daniel and I will follow the group that left.”

“Yes, sir.” Sam affirmed with a brisk nod of her head, which Teal’c mimicked in his usual slow but convicted pace.

Jack came to his feet, hunched forward to remain hidden by the willow like branches that fanned out before them.  He motioned for the scholar to follow suit and before they left he told his two team mates, “Don’t let the frostbite bite.”

Daniel followed his lover’s commanding lead around the perimeter of the meadow, moving as quickly and as quietly as they could through the dense brush.  By the time they got to where Carter had seen the aliens depart into the trees they could see nothing of their target.  In top of that Jack refused to use the flashlights, which would obviously reveal their presence.  The skilled soldier picked up on a trail, seeing indentations in the grass and ground that were invisible to the scholar’s untrained eye.  They pushed deeper into the spruce following the signs of travel that had proceeded them and the scientist was happy to be out of the thick cloying bramble.  There was less vegetation under the evergreens and it made finding the trail in the dark far easier.

The two lover’s moved forwards and onwards for what Daniel’s feet thought must have been hours and was more likely only minutes, without even hearing a sound from the group they pursued.  The only sounds in the darkness of the aliens forest was that of their own labored breathing and moving.  There had been no word from their comrades either and the archeologist’s hopes of introducing themselves to a new alien race began to sadly dwindle. 

Then there was a strange hooting sound that disturbed the silence of the night, followed by a fast clicking that was comparable to a cricket’s chirp.  The Colonel stopped so abruptly in front of the scholar that the younger man collided into the other’s stone still form, managing to knock his glasses askew.  Jack elbowed his ribs warningly, as the scholar quickly readjusted the frame on his nose and wildly began to scan the trees and the darkness that surrounded them.  It was impossible to make out anything further than eight feet away from them besides the gnarled trunks of the massive trees and the hazy outline of the grounds uneven surface.

The sound had been vaguely animalistic and Jack was obviously still looking for its owner, when they heard it again—louder and far more robust than the first.  Daniel whirled around, scanning the blackness and still seeing nothing.  There were more noises then, softer calls, longer howls, as though they were surrounded by a number of the creatures.  There was a hiss and then a crackle over the radio.  Jack grabbed the thing in his vest pocket at his shoulder, calling to his subordinate, “Carter?”

“…movement…lights—move it, sir!” came the garbled and crackling transmission from the Major.  The first few words that they had made out had been calm—the last had been screamed in alarm—in warning.

“Go, Daniel!” Jack ordered, grabbing his elbow and pushing the scholar into a sprint in the direction that they had come from.

The archeologist did as his lover had commanded, pumping his legs as fast as he could and still navigate through the darkness over the uneven ground and around the densely packed spruce.  There was more hooting and clicking behind them in rapid succession and then the unmistakable sound of pursuit.

The odd calls became a raucous behind them as they fled, eerie and menacing.  Daniel tried to keep his brain focused on fleeing, on not tripping on the uneven debris covered floor of the forest, instead of on the curious need to wonder why they were being pursued and what the Major’s broken transmission had truly warned.  He ducked under branches, felt the scrape of the needles over his cheeks and against his hair, his ears ever filled with those haunting calls that broke the silence of the cold night—stranger and more minacious than howler monkeys in the darkness of the jungle.  He could also hear Jack.  Hear his pounding boot falls close behind him, his aerobic breathing, could feel his hand now and then pushing slightly to encourage his speed.  He knew that the safety on the P90 had been switched off, didn’t have to hear it to know it had been done already.  He could feel that the soldier had the weapon at the ready to defend them if there became no other choice, yet Daniel didn’t feel the need was there—still hoped against hope that they could introduce themselves to this new life form they had provoked and make peace with it.

Then there was a sharp crack and a short cry from Jack that proceeded what sounded distinctly like a body rolling into the dirt.  The archeologist stopped, the soles of his boots skidding on the needle covered ground, as his lover’s imperious voice barked, “Don’t stop, dammit!  Run, Daniel!”  The younger man gave only a slight thought that inclined towards obeying the direct order before he rushed back to where he found the Colonel getting back to his feet.  The man’s normally limber form seemed to favor his right side and the brunette sensed immediately that his leg had been compromised in the tumble somehow.  “Jack?” he asked, in a rush, only to have the man roughly shove him away when he got closer.

“You never listen!  Run, I said!” the soldier hissed through clenched teeth, “Get to Cater and Teal’c or so help me…!”  The last words were lost as the soldier tried to take another step, garbled into to a sharp intake of breath that conveyed the pain the soldier was in.

Daniel didn’t have to say what he intended to do or why.  The soldier knew and he could tell that it pissed his lover off.  That didn’t matter.  The scholar stepped in and took the other man under the arm, helping to support his weight.  They attempted a few steps, hobbling like two damn cripples, when the sound of the alien’s spectral calls began to surround them again.  Daniel felt the soldier’s entire body stiffen, tensed for the fight, as he hefted the gun in preparation for the attack.  The scholar’s eyes scanned the darkness and still could see nothing, even though the calls and the breathing of the creatures felt like they were not only surrounded but literally on top of their position.  Why couldn’t they see anything?  Where were they?  What were they?

The hooting stopped.  The night grew silent, broken only by the unmistakable sound of the two men breathing.  Daniel could feel his own heart pounding, his own mind racing, his adrenalin coursing.  The silence was more disturbing than the chase had been and his fingers finally had the urge to grip the hilt of the hand gun in the holster on his right thigh.  Then he seen it. 

The archeologist seen the form of a tall figure emerge from the blackness of the night and the trees, walking towards them—naked.  As the details of the man became clearer they both sucked in a gasp of frightened disbelief.  It was—It was Jack.  The Colonel beside him scoffed disdainfully, uttering a muttered string of curses under his breath, as Daniel came out from under his arm.  The scholar took a step towards the familiar looking figure, hands raised in peaceful submission, as he softly greeted the alien, “Hello.  I’m Dr. Daniel Jackson of Earth.”

“H-Hel…Helllloooo.” the voice said that emanated from within the frame of what appeared to be a perfect replica of the Colonel behind him—right down to the un-engorged penis that he was well acquainted with.    The sound wasn’t human—not even remotely similar to the reverberant and commanding tone of the man the being duplicated.  It was hollow and low, grinding in tone, similar to the controlled voice of a Goa’uld host but more…mechanical in nature.  It certainly wasn’t human and possibly wasn’t even organic.

Pushing mentally past the startling visage of the being before him Daniel tried to speak with the alien that seemed to want to communicate peacefully.  He raised a hand to his chest and said slowly, watching to make perfectly clear pronunciation, “We come in peace.  We wish to learn from your people and in turn share our knowledge with you.”

“We…we come-me in p-peace.” The stuttered reply rumbled out of the familiar looking body before the scientist, the eyes un-blinking and the form unmoving.  Daniel was about to speak more when the figure extended an opened palm hand towards them and swept it back towards the direction of their space craft.  “C-come-mme.”  The open sable eyes glanced at him expectantly.

“Yes.  We will come.” Daniel replied, smiling warmly, as he repeated the gesture the alien had made, pointing between the thoroughly disgruntled Colonel and himself, then forward past the figure to the alien craft.  “We will come with you.”


	34. Chapter 34

“I can’t see as there is anything different between this data and that.” Delia said as she adjusted the red plastic frames on her nose and squinted at the print out that her team mate was showing her.

When the red head moved her head back from the paper in the Captain’s hand Sam pointed her finger at something on the print out and elaborated, “It’s right there.  This is clearly showing that something happened, some kind of disruption to the monitoring systems that is so small I missed it the first time.  It could just be space junk—Major Samuels would certainly say so—but with Daniel missing and this error happening not only last night around the same time but also every night proceeding it for the last three days…I’d bet this is real.”

“But you saying it and proving it are going to be to completely different things when it comes to connecting this strange object to Dr. Jackson’s disappearance.” Delia stated, with a resigned sigh, and the Colonel had to agree with her.

The Captian looked incredibly dejected, frustrated, and pensive.  Her thin brows were knit over her large blue eyes, as the scanned over the interference in the telemetry data from NASA’s space monitors.  Space junk had become the go to terminology for whatever it was that was showing up on the scans but was too small to consider investigating and unfortunately the Colonel knew all too well that there was a ton of crap out there in Earth’s orbit that could cause small blips like these.  Yet in his gut he could feel what Carter had—that these and the large blip from earlier had truly been an alien space craft hiding somehow from Earth in the shadow of the moon. 

The times were suspicious.  When she had at first found them he hadn’t put two and two together.  Then later when the Captain had emphatically proclaimed that one lined up perfectly with Delia’s timeline for Daniel’s disappearance Jack had to admit that the other two corresponded unusually with the strange occurrences with Farley and Cindel.  Was there an alien race in that craft out there watching them?

The soldier’s gut also told him that there was danger.  His feeling beat at the pit of his stomach like a war drum heralding an attack.  The Colonel knew damn well that the sensation was similar to the effects of no sleep, too much coffee, and the anxiety he fought over his lover’s sudden and strange disappearance.  At least the little bird was safe and sleeping.  He didn’t know if he could face those fiercely scared eyes again and tell her that he didn’t know where her father was, who had taken him, or when he would return—if in truth he would be returned at all.

Jack fought the urge to assume that the Vashen were involved.  He had no evidence.  Just that instinct.  He was skeptical that the Goa’uld were the culprits.  Blasting Nagada to smithereens was more there style.  Silent kidnapping wasn’t, they like to gloat too much.  He chalked the suspicion mostly up to the fact that there last bloody encounter with an alien race had been with the shape shifting bastards they’d encountered on P53-652.  They’d been different then a lot of other aliens they’d encountered.  Abruptly curious, disturbingly investigative, and without a conscience or soul.  Hence the untimely and disrespecting fate of the Carter from his timeline.  Teal’c had at least gone out in the heat of battle, saving his girl.  She hadn’t deserved what they gave her.  They could have at least killed her first.

The soldier shivered with the mental chill that the memory had afflicted him with.  The red headed scientist seen the reaction and her green eyes scanned him rather unremorsefully—almost clinically.  He brought his brows down over his eyes and glared at the blatant stare and to move the attention away he said to Carter, “’Berry’s right, Captain.  If this is connected we are going to have to show more than this to get anyone to believe us, let alone do something about it.”

“More importantly,” Delia said with a defeated shrug of her shoulders, “what good will this information do us anyway?  If there is a ship out there and Daniel’s somehow on it—which is what the two of you are really hypothesizing—then how would we even investigate it?  We can’t even communicate with it or get a better look at it.”

Carter’s face pinched at that statement, making her look like she’d just sucked on a lemon and didn’t enjoy the sour taste.  They were all a little frazzled.  It had been several hours and they hadn’t gotten hardly anywhere.  There had been no word from the police, no sign of Daniel, and no answers.  Worst of all Sam’s dialing computer had spit out its first gate address and the General was chomping at the bit for SG-1 to prep for their first briefing.  As far as he knew the MALP was about to be sent through and Carter would have to leave off this search to deal with that.  She wasn’t nearly as excited about this first gate as she had been when it was first proposed.  He knew damn well that she hated to leave off finding Daniel for anything else.  But the time would come and they still hadn’t solved anything.

Jack wondered if the ship was a Vashen vessel what it was the bastards were up to.  They had planned to harvest earth’s minerals, needing what was here to replace what they had destroyed of their own, put it wouldn’t be a small ship like what Carter had found.  It would be much much bigger.  They had foiled the alien’s plans the last time by finding that nifty time machine—it had been a quick fix that had landed them somehow back onto a similar path despite his best efforts to thwart it—that is if it was the Vashen out there. 

Carter sighed and leaned heavily on the workshop, head tipped downward over the large scale maps of earth and its satellites, as they began to hear indistinct singing filtering down the hallway.  The red head’s brows crossed in confusion as a smile curled the corner of her small mouth and she turned her head towards the door, her body language conveying the question her lips kept at bay.  Jack recognized Skaara’s rich sounding vocals, singing a playful tune in Abydonian, which was accompanied slightly off tune by a softer higher pitched child’s voice.  As their growing proximity made the words they sang clearer the soldier realized he knew the song. 

Daniel would have been able to join in and sing right along with his brother in law.  The Nagada boys had sang the song drunkenly one of the nights they had been first in the alien city, enjoying the festivities brought on by their ordained appearance through to Skaara’s world.  Daniel had gone off to be bedded by the pretty daughter and the rest of his command had remained behind to be entertained by the other shy women and Skaara’s gang of teenagers.  It was a bawdy song that Kawalski and Ferreti had picked up on singing—probably the bit of another language they’d ever try to accomplish—for the words had a catchy ring to them that made the women swing their hips and shake their shoulders.  At any rate, it wasn’t exactly a song for a little girl to be singing from what Daniel had conveyed to him when he’d been caught humming the tune afterward.

As the duo came around the corner looking like a freakishly tall two headed monster, singing loudly, with beaming faces, Jack couldn’t help but smile.  Cindel was up on her uncle’s shoulders, her hands clinging to the sides of his face, as he held onto the knees by his ears, happy as pie.  They sang a last verse and then the little girl proudly threw her arms up into the air, and the duo proclaimed a loud and triumphant, “Ta-daaa!”

Clapping for the child seemed like a welcome reprieve from worrying and hypothesizing about her father’s whereabouts.  It was a breath of fresh air to have a chuckle at the little bird’s laughing eyes and her uncle’s smiling face, as he toted her about on his shoulders.  Everyone clapped, everyone smiled, everyone forgot for a moment that a friend was missing.  Jack relished that look of pride and achievement on Cindel’s face—the way that her cheeks dimpled like her father’s, the way her almond shaped eyes crinkled with her infectious grin—and he wondered then how he’d keep it there.

The girl’s uncle didn’t seem concerned about it—losing everything that the boy had after finally finding freedom for his people, the soldier supposed Skaara was hardened to dealing with this sort of thing.  Sam seemed to have a compassionate smile on her that languished in her palpable sympathy for the young girl’s plight.  Even ‘Berry seemed relieved to see the girl enjoying herself.  It was a short lived reprieve for Jack. 

“Hello, Jack!” the little bird called to him from aloft her perch.  Skaara had never been tall and so the girl’s head was just a touch above Jack’s lofty 6 foot frame.  Jack tried to smile up into the beaming face—trying with all his might to ignore the damned cute dimples in her cheeks that reminded him so painfully of her father.  “Did you hear us singing?”

“Yes,” he replied, with a charming smile plastered over his weary frustrated features, “I did.”

“Uncle Skaara taught me, just now.” She said, so excited to share this little bit of news that she was nearly bursting at the seams with pride. 

“My sister would not have approved,” Skaara said, shrugging dismissively, “but Cindel loves to sing…and I know nothing else.”

“Your honesty astounds me.” Jack replied to the younger man dryly.  “I doubt Daniel would approve either.”

“Is…Is that…” ‘Berry seemed to be stumbling for words, as she pointed a finger at the towering duo with a burning interest in those malachite eyes.

“It’s my language.” Skaara answered her, with a crooked smile that made his one cheek dimple. “Abydonian.”

The young red heads face seemed to glow and if Jack knew anything about scientist’s he knew that it damn well wasn’t the dimple that excited ‘Berry.  She flashed her eyes between the little girl and the dark man the child sat atop, as she moistened her lips, finally deciding to extend her hand to the little bird to shake.  Cindel took the doctor’s outstretched hand, as the woman began to speak their language, “Yanek Delia.”

The young girl’s face split with a grin like a kid unwrapping a present and in a loud squeal she exclaimed, “Boni we!  Nafi, nafi!”, as she clapped her hands at the red head below her perch.  Delia’s pretty mouth smiled pleasantly as well, charmed by the little girl’s exuberant praises.  Skaara reached out with his hands and captured the doctor’s small palm in his own, as he congratulated her in Adydonian, which transition to his choppy English accent, “You speak it well and it is your first time, no?”

‘Berry looked very satisfied with herself but a little overwhelmed by the extols they lavished on her small attempt to communicate with them.  Modestly she admitted that it was her first time, explaining that she had heard briefly about the language, similar to what little linguists knew of earth’s ancient Egyptian.  “I worked a while with Dr. Stuart Tyson Smith, while he was working out of Fowler.  He has done much research into the ancient Egyptian language and now that I am hearing you speak it I am astonished that he was so close.” She paused, moistened her lips again, and tried the language some more.

Skaara and Cindel both launched into a flurry of foreign words that made Jack’s head spin.  He glanced past the chattering trio, across the work bench to where Carter sat on her stool, head propped in her hand over the maps before her on the table, the evidence she thought she had to prove the craft’s existence close by.  She wasn’t swayed by the enlightening abilities of the young linguist Daniel had recruited for their team.  She had a friend to find.  Jack admired that.

Although what she had found was undeniably something it wasn’t enough to prove her theory—not to the administration anyway.  A couple hours later they were in the briefing room with the General, beginning to brief for their first recognisance mission through the stargate to the planet that Carter’s dialing computer had provided for them.  The Captain had been drawn away from the team’s efforts to find Daniel so that she could go through the MALP data and prepare the briefing.  Now she stood before the large table in the briefing room beside of tall trolley with a computer monitor and a key board.

The Colonel sat back in his chair, elbow on the arm rest supporting his chin in his hand, as he yawned.  He was exhausted.  He hadn’t slept since he’d woke to find Daniel missing and he hadn’t really planned on getting any more shut eye until he did.  He rubbed his face with a cleansing palm, hoping he didn’t look half as bad as he felt. 

There was a gentle hand on his shoulder, small and feminine and caring.  He looked up to see the young scientist leaning down, uncomfortably close, as she stretched an arm forward and placed a steaming black mug of coffee on the table in front of the file folder he was supposed to be go through.  Her smile was soft and warm, pinked with lip gloss, as she pulled back out of his personal space and moved to take her seat in her own chair, beside him.  He hadn’t thanked her, didn’t intend to, and the archeologist didn’t seem to expect or desire him to.  He took up the mug and despite the temperature of the brew took a deep swig of it. 

Then the briefing began, just like usual—usual to him anyway—and the soldier found himself being swept through the familiar motions, watching but not interceding.  Carter showed them the MALP video data, displaying to them a healthy looking planet, who’s misted landscape reminded him of Canada’s west coast and an awful stint he had done as a young Corporal along the Alaskan border.  It was a horizon of rolling mountains, peaks lost in a shroud of grey cloud that blanketed the sky like a buffer that shielded any view of the sun, the rocky bases carpeted in an uninterrupted sea of mottled green vegetation.  It was a familiar and irritating sight.

The blond went on to explain that the atmospheric pressure was normal, that the oxygen levels were similar, and that they would be taking rain gear to deal with the constant threat of drizzle.  Then the General took over, giving them their mission parameter’s.  They needed to map a 2 mile radius about the stargate, looking for any forms of life, past or present.  They would take mineral and water samples.  And if the chance came they would attempt to establish peaceful contact with the indigenous life forms.  Carter explained that the MALP had not recorded any life, aside from the odd shot of a bird in the distant sky and Jack sighed.  Another boring routine gate.  He didn’t feel happy to leave his search for Daniel for this. 

‘Berry asked the usual ‘first gate’ questions.  Skaara watched the young doctor’s shirt shift over her fair sized bosom with the movement of her gestures.  The stare was beginning to boarder of ogling when the Captian drew the boys attention away with a discussion on standard team equipment—guns—the only other interest on the boys mind.  They would wear green, dress for the cool, wet, climate, and they would be carrying P90’s. 

“We will continue the search for Dr. Jackson while you are away.” The General said, as though he had plucked the thoughts out of Jack’s mind.

“I want to know immediately if you find anything, sir.” The Colonel insisted.

Hammond didn’t look impressed with his tone, but nodded his acknowledgment all the same.  “We will keep his daughter here on the base as well, for her safety.” The soft hearted Texan informed the team.  “We’ve moved a cot into Skaara’s quarter’s, where she will be more comfortable, while your team is away, and Dr. Fraiser has agreed to keep an eye on her.”

“Thank you, General,” Jack said, with an appreciative nod of his head in the bald man’s direction.  “I know Daniel would appreciate your understanding.”

“Your team departs in the morning, Colonel, at 0900 hours.  You’re dismissed.” 

Jack resisted the groups need to move.  The Colonel stayed reclined in his leather chair, watching the others with a distracted interest.  The General returned to his office, Carter began to pack up the trolley and roll it away, Skaara asked ‘Berry to join him in the cafeteria in a suave sounding string of Abydonian that insinuated he was looking for more than just dinner-company.  The young red headed doctor flatly refused her teammate in a matter of fact manner that managed not to cause offense, as she excused herself and left.  The boy watched the shimmering boho waves bounce over the shoulders of her grey leather blazer, before allowing his gaze to drop and admire a much more obvious asset.  Jack scoffed under his breath.  The young buck was on the hunt, something the soldier wanted absolutely no part of.  So when Skaara had turned back around and extended his refused offer to Jack, the soldier’s immediate thought was to spurn the kid. 

The Colonel managed though to reconsider.  Together they could take the kid off of the good doc’s hands and get her fed.  It was growing late and he actually felt he could look past Daniel’s strange disappearance to see a positive, to look forward to a night alone in his own bed.  So he accepted.

Dinner proved to be hilarious.  Both the men enjoyed the girl’s antics, her stories from her adventures in the infirmary, and the way she exclaimed over every new earth food she tried.  It was hard to be melancholy with the kid around and once again the soldier was stunned by the child’s fortitude.  She had her moment of breaking and had fought past it.  She was very much of the here and now, enjoying what she did have instead of pining for what she had not.  It was refreshing and encouraging. 

So when Jack did return to his empty home, to be greeted only by the golden retriever, and to crawl into an empty bed it didn’t seem as hard as he thought it might have. 


	35. Chapter 35

“What the hell happened, Major?” Jack snapped at his subordinate, his eyes narrowed with increasing agitation.  He rubbed the sore naked ankle, which was slightly swollen and blotched red but not twisted or broken.  It had been damn sore, until the alien had noticed and fixed it.  Both Daniel and Jack weren’t sure exactly how, but the pain was gone.

“I can’t really explain it, sir.” She stammered, her eyes distant, searching for a way to put together a suitable answer to give her CO.

“We saw more movement beneath the vessel, more aliens that were unlike the ones that came before them.  They spread out in a sweeping pattern that I failed to recognize as an attack strategy.” Teal’c explained for her.  Daniel wondered if the Jaffa remembered more than Sam did because of his natural immunities alone or just the sheer gap in their size ration.  “We attempted to fall back and retreat to the stargate, radioed you as a precaution, and then we were overtaken.”

“Did it hurt?” Daniel asked, his eyes assessing the dark purplish bruising around a white welt on each of their necks, raised and swollen like a giant hive.

“Like a sonofabitch.” Sam cursed, pulling at the collar of her jacket to pull the fabric away.

Daniel winced just watching his teammates attempt to find comfort for the wound.  They had been knocked out by some kind of alien weapon, similar effects to a zat’ but worse.  The Colonel and himself had faired a different capture—yet they were still prisoners.  The doppleganger alien that had introduced itself to them had invited them to come back to the ship in its stuttered attempt at English.  The creature seemed to be able to absorb information both physical and psychological from them like a sponge sucked up water.  It was amazingly unexplainable.  The alien had not touched them and yet it had been able to mimic Jack’s form right down to the bloody scar in his eyebrow—perhaps having the ability to shape-shift.  

They had attempted to walk, the younger scientist helping the injured soldier, and the alien intervened, healing the Colonel with but a touch of an index finger.  They then followed the naked form of Jack’s double back to the ship, beaming aboard without ever seeing any of the others that they could hear in the darkness of the forest earlier.  The white light that had transported them into the alien space craft had deposited them in this stark room, where they had found their two teammates still unconscious. 

It was a prison cell.  A three sided box made of what looked like pure steel, unified without a single rivet or joint.  The one missing wall seemed to stretch down a long corridor and they had found out the hard way that it was blocked with an invisible force field, which was capable of exerting a sizzling jolt of hot energy that left Daniel with a tingling and numb hand that was slowly returning to normal.  Since then Teal’c had come to, Carter shortly after, and they had set to trying to assess this dangerous predicament.

“You just had to talk to them, didn’t you?” Jack hissed angrily at his lover, frustrated, irritable, and feeling the full weight of the responsibility of his leadership mounting on his shoulders, as they soon realized they had few options.

They had no weapons and few clothes left.  Their utility vests and jackets had been removed, along with their footwear and socks.  If they did escape the ship it would be hard to make it back to camp and to the stargate without earning some frost bitten digits in the process.  That was even if their camp was unspoiled by their captors. 

The archeologist fought the urge to roll his eyes and ignored the Colonel’s useless criticism.  Fighting amongst themselves wouldn’t get them anywhere.  He looked over at Sam, who sat cross-legged on the steel floor across from him, head tilted away from the wound on her neck that was glaringly apparent and painful.  She forced a small smile, showing him that firm determination that he marveled at in his comrade, mouthing the words, “Don’t worry.”  Daniel sighed and leaned his back against the wall behind him, casually slinging his arms over his knees.

“Our next scheduled communication with the SGC was planned for 0800 hours, O’Niell.” Teal’c reminded the Colonel.  “In a few hours the SGC will be aware that something has prevented us from doing so.”

“A few hours too late, I’m afraid, T.” Jack groused, cradling his head in his hands and ruffling his short silvered crop, as he growled in exasperation. 

“There’s no reason to suspect ill intent.” The scientist volleyed, incredibly optimistic regardless of their current situation.  The attempt at lifting the negative view only earned him a glare from his frazzled lover. 

“Earth to Dannyboy!” the older man barked acridly, gesturing wildly, “They shot first and haven’t even bothered to ask questions!  I’m pretty sure they aren’t about to invite us to tea.”

Daniel clamped his mouth shut to keep himself from retaliating in suit.  Jack’s mind was set.  There would be no swaying him now.  They sat in silence for a while after that.  Without a clock or watch it felt like hours.  They didn’t have much to say.  It was hard to plan an escape when you didn’t know what to expect could come.  Eventually their fretting minds were stimulated by a distraction—a figure finally approached them from within the darkness. 

They all stood, forming a line before the invisible force field that held them captive to greet the figure that neared.  It was Jack’s doppelganger, no longer naked but in a grey one piece uniform that reminded Daniel of a tacky seventies sci-fi flick.  The younger man caught his lover and his friend exchanged a glance—it would have been imperceptible to anyone else but the archeologist knew that within that simple action a plan had been formulated. 

This Jack had his hair slicked back, wet, like he had just stepped out of a shower, and the features that he prided himself on knowing so well were a mask of placidness.  The sable eyes whose depths and intensity amused the archeologist were flat and blank looking, as though fake, like glass.  The being walked right up to them and waved an arm in a mechanical fashion, the movement coming all from his elbow, sweeping a wide and high semi-circle.  “H-hellllll-oooo,” came the strange and computer-like voice from the mouth of a replica of his lover.

“Hello.” Daniel replied, taking a cautious step towards the being and as close to the force field as he dared.  He moistened his lips, seeing that the being seemed to register no emotional response to his answer, and tried to calculate what was in their favor to say next.  He didn’t get a chance.

“Where ho-hom-mee?” the mechanical voice garbled out at him, the head twitching like a bird’s to an odd angle, the glass looking eyes trained on him. 

“Earth.” The scientist answered, simply, “A planet in the Milky Way Galaxy.  We are travelers, explorers.  We have come to meet new races and share our technology and cultures.”

The doppleganger’s face contorted with excitement, a grin stretching across the familiar looking lips and the sable eyes widening with delight.  The expression was so contradictory to the placidness that had come before it that Daniel knew without looking that Jack’s own face would be twitching in agitation.  This thing took a step back and gestured at them to follow, exuberantly exclaiming, “Sh-share!  Yes, share!  Co-ome, come.”

 

The entire team tensed.  There had been no sign that they had freed from their prison, no communication as such from the alien in Jack’s image.  Daniel’s eyes narrowed at the being as he scrutinized its possible motivation, soon swayed by the eager gestured that continued to call the team to follow its lead.  The archeologist took a deep breath and held it in, taking a step forward.  The Colonel’s hand shot out to at his elbow but the scientist managed to evade the predictable move from his lover and stepped forward to demonstrate there was in deed no more threat of injury.  His breath released with relief even faster than the younger man had intended and the aliens grin only stretched in response to his trust. 

 

“Yes, share, come.” It kept repeating, the words formed this time clearly, without stutter or hesitation, even though the strange mechanical sound to the voice remained consistent and eerie.

 

His comrades followed his trusting lead, following him after the alien in a procession down the blackened corridor.  After walking no more than a couple of minutes the corridor abruptly ended with a wall identical to the cell they had just left.  Jack cursed under his breath behind the archeologist and as the alien beckoned them to gather closer they were suddenly enveloped in a blinding flash of light.

 

Daniel felt his body go weightless for a split second, like the moment in which one first falls into water, caught in that suspension until the light faded and they found themselves in another room, far vaster than the vessel had was capable of withholding.  The scientist blinked his eyes a few times to clear his vision of stars as he contemplated the chances of his mind miscomprehending what he was seeing.  Immense would be an understatement for the room that they were in now, although he knew that it did still meet all the requirements to satisfy the definition of a room. 

 

The archeologist’s training was kicking in, supplying his confused and awed mind with answers.  He speculated that the room was the equivalent to an earth warehouse, cubicles that seemed to be grown out of the very substance that also made up the floor and the roof high above.  He wondered that with the right number of living breathing beings inside if the cavernous space would indeed create its own weather system from the condensation, like the Everet Boeing Production Hanger in Washington.  There were things in the cubicles that resembled metal boxes of all different sizes stacked like merchandise on a pallet in a department stores storage room. 

 

The team was in fact in one of these same cubicles on the main level of this vast storage area and it felt smaller than those that lined the building’s immense walls, like honeycombs in hive.  Daniel turned away from the vastness beyond to the confines of the small walled room, finding it surprisingly empty in comparison.  The walls here seemed more alive than the cubicles that he could see across from them.  They glistened slightly, like they were alive, glowed as though the living walls were bioluminescent.  The orange light that bathed the room was fairly bright, not dim, and in the center of the room was a single white box that was roughly the height and length of Sam’s workbench in her lab back at the SGC. 

 

The alien gestured to all of them to follow it, using those same eager motions that had coaxed Daniel from the confines of their prison cell down the rabbit hole.  Glancing askance the man could see that his blond counterpart was skeptical, her narrowed eyes only defied by the flicker of curiosity in their sapphire depths.  Daniel ditched his apprehension, siding with his gut instinct to take the alien at face value and obligingly cooperate and share, as he had said was their ultimate intention.   The alien in the Colonel’s skin was already around on the other side of the table, waving his hands. 

 

Before the squared digits fingertips appeared a suspended electronic keyboard made solely of green light, which responded to the tapping of the fingers in midair.  Then, as though commanded by the rapid typing, a panel in the center of the rectangular white box retracted, revealing a cavity within.  Rising up from within on a pedestal was a machine about the size of a microwave, adorned with many toggles, switches, and wires.  Both scientist’s took a commanding step towards the machine in unison, eyes intent and fingers restrained from the automatic desire to touch. 

 

The machine was complicated and yet somehow primitive.  It did not match the alien technology of this vessel and Daniel suddenly suspected the nature of the creature’s motives.  This was a warehouse of impressive size, with holding one could only guess how many scientific marvels and technologies.  Perhaps curious itself the alien had suspected that they might know the answer to unraveling the mystery of the machine that was alien to them.  Perhaps it had been found on the planet and they had happened to be mistaken for inhabitants of the planet. 

 

Daniel looked the machine over, careful to keep his hands down and away.  Sam was just as respectable, eyes searching every line, nook, and cranny.  She pointed out two gauges and dials that seemed somehow similar, ringed in pictoglyphs that were foreign to their knowledge of alien and earthen languages.   

 

“Share.” The creature encouraged, almost plaintively. 

 

Sam and Daniel shared a look that exchanged their apprehension over the aliens plea and the task they had been presented with.  The blond straightened and beckoned to the Jaffa stoically waiting behind her.  Teal’c stepped between them as she asked him if he could identify the pictoglyphs on the dials.  His answer was immediate and was a definitive, no.  Daniel rubbed his chin and tried to rationalize if the symbols didn’t appear to be increments of some kind, when Sam suddenly blurted out, “Numbers.  I think these are numbers.”

 

“Ti-ime.” The doppleganger stuttered the word.

 

“Time?” Daniel repeated in questioning.

 

The Major shrugged her shoulders and pouted her bottom lip.  “Could be.”

 

“So what…like a clock?” Jack skeptically questioned, his features pinched with his palpable irritation, as he studied the machine from over his CO’s shoulder. 

 

The scholar knew what the soldier was thinking: all this for a time piece?  Daniel wasn’t in agreement but Sam was the first to state it.  “I don’t think so.” She said with a shake of her head, her eyes never leaving the circular dials with their little pictoglyphs.  “An alien race this far advanced wouldn’t be interested in it if it was simply a clock.”

 

“Then what?” Daniel mused aloud, his thumb coming to his pursed bottom lip.  “Maybe some kind of a record of time?”

 

Sam mouth pinched with her obvious inability to consider that response as the true answer.  She shrugged her shoulders and the tips of her digits twitched with the ever growing desire to touch the dials and gauges.  “I don’t think that’s quite it either.  They are collector’s or researcher’s of some kind if you take into consideration the size of that store house out there.  I can’t back it up but my gut tells me it has to be more than that.”

 

“Perhaps then it is a device that enables one to manipulate time.” The stoic jaffa theorized from behind them. 

 

The blond’s face lit at the prospect, nearly as comical as a kid at Christmas.  Almost giddy she straightened and turned back to praise her team mates suggestion.  “That’s  plausible.  It would explain why they are so interested in it.”

 

“A time machine?” Jack scoffed, wide eyed, silver brows raised in question.  “Isn’t that a little cliché?  I don’t know about you but I sure as hell can tell that ain’t no Delorian.”

 

Daniel fought the urge to smack his sarcastic lover.  Instead he shrugged and stated the obvious fact that Jack’s humor had failed to point out. “It’s one technology though that just about any advanced race would want to understand and control, whether they mean to use it with good intentions or not.”  Daniel gestured back at the doppleganger and Jack frowned at the way his double grinned in satisfaction and obvious expectation. 

 

“Okay, fine!” the soldier countered derisively, his irritation palpable, “And so what if it is a time machine?  What’s figuring that much out going to get us?  We’re still prisoners.”

 

There was no arguing with that obvious point, and so the scholar shrugged in agreement, before turning back to the man’s double.  He gave the alien a warm smile and gestured between himself and the machine, explaining, “We wish to know when we can return to the planet.  Home.”

 

The Colonel’s double looked suddenly worried and anxiously pointed a demanding finger towards the machine, stuttering in it’s creepy mechanical tones, “No h-home-mee.  Make wo-work.”

 

Without hesitation the scholar immediately and honestly replied, “This is not our technology.  We are travelers from another planet.  I don’t know if we can make it work.”

 

The frown that appeared on the doppleganger’s face was unmistakable.  Daniel had seen that frown before and knew that the alien was not pleased.  Without warning there was another bright flash of light.  Then the weightlessness.  Then darkness. 


	36. Chapter 36

When Jack awoke the next morning it was to a quiet house.  Before he opened his eyes he rolled over and took a long cleansing breath in and then out.  He could hear birds singing and bickering in the junipers outside the bedroom windows.  It was early morning, the room only dimly lit by the first rays of the sun that had cleared the high buildings of downtown’s core to hit his humble home in the suburbs.  He rolled on to his back, stretching his limbs in either direction, his fingers spreading and his toes clenching with the action.  He sighed a heavy breath and relaxed his muscles, bringing a cleansing hand to rub his eyes and face, as he smacked his dry lips a couple of times and fought a yawn. 

“You are a wonder, Jack O’Niell.” He heard Daniel say. 

Jack’s elbows shot back behind him, propping his torso up on the mattress, his eyes wide and searching.  The room was poorly lit, the shadows over taking the corners.  The bedroom door was open, the closet half exposed, yesterday’s clothes were strewn about the wooden floor by the side of the bed, Farley was absent.  A hand covered his eyes and he flopped onto his back once more on the mattress, cursing himself.

How many mornings had he envisioned Daniel there with him after the time shift?  He had retired and stayed put, waiting.  How many times had he been shocked to full alertness by the phantom calls of his lover from down the hallway?  Or the pressure of his body shifting in the bed next to him?  It sucked to be reminded of it now—when he had reveled in the pleasure of the man returned to him, the man’s love and body freely given to him, and the accompanied pitter-patter of a child’s feet to enjoy…all lost once more.  Jack cursed again and threw the blankets back.  He was up now.

The soldier went about his regular morning routine at a pace that would insinuate an organized rush.  Jack knew his quickness was not at all normal or routine—it was needed.  The house irritated him.  Every empty room was a silent slap in the face, a constant reminder of what had been that was no more—that he couldn’t change.  He showered, shaved, and dressed in record time, coming out of his room to discover that Farley wasn’t absent just abnormally depressed.  The spunky golden retriever was curled at the end of the Hello Kitty comforter, still messed from the previous occupant, and when Jack found the animal he was greeted by a melancholy whimper and large sad brown eyes. 

“For crying out loud, Farley…” he mumbled.  The soldier gave an understanding sigh of empathy and beckoned the dog to his side with a quick couple of slaps to his thigh.  The retriever groaned a complaint and then turned his head away from his master, covering his eyes with a paw, as though he was ignoring the man that had called to him.  “Unbelievable…” Jack groused, shaking his head and waving a dismissive hand in the retriever’s general direction.  “I understand ya’, boy, I really do.”

The Colonel left the dog on the overwhelmingly pink bed, to pine for the girl the canine missed, and went about gathering the rest of his things.  It was still early, not yet six, and the quietness of the house was overpowering—he had to escape it.  He slipped into his black leather jacket and pulled on his runners at the back door, snagging his keys before stepping out.  He called Farley and reluctantly the dog left his post, whining the entire way to the neighbors.  He put Farley into the backyard and Kathy poked her head out of the veranda doors, greeting him in chipper morning-person tone.

“How long will you be away this time?” she asked, as she retightened the waist strap of her fluffy blue bath robe.

“A week, maybe more.” He answered her, shrugging his shoulders with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his leather jacket. 

“No problem.” The older woman replied, with a warm smile, as she waved a dismissive hand at her neighbor, adding, “I know where his food is.”

“Thanks, Kat,” the soldier said, giving her a wink as he turned to walk out of the yard.  “I appreciate it.”

“Jack?” she called after him.

The Colonel turned back, looking over his shoulder at the woman, who had now stepped out onto her stone patio.  Her bright face, weary with apprehension and worry, exaggerating the few lines that hinted at her age.  Her thin lips were parted, ready to speak but something was holding her back.  Jack gave her another warm smile, “What is it?”

“Jack…” she said his name again, averting her eyes from his gaze, searching anywhere else to avoid him as her unspoken thoughts boiled over in her mind.  Jack could read her words plainly on her face long before she finally spit them out, “You know we don’t mean to be nosey.  Ron and I, we care a great deal for that little girl and your friend.  She’s lost a lot and…and we want to help in any way that we can.”  Her eyes were on him now, piercing in their intensity, as she tried to clearly make her point without over stepping any kind of suburban neighborhood bounds.  “What happened to him?”  

Jack froze, mind screeching to a sudden stop and going blank.  He hadn’t thought he’d have to explain.  Kathy must have noticed or was too impatient to wait for an answer.  Quickly she added, “We heard the vehicles the other night and then, well you know Ron, he saw all the vehicles leave with you’s all in it…that is except for Mr. Jackson.  We’re just worried, Jack.”

“Well, put your mind at ease, Kathy.” Jack insisted, managing a faint smile and a caring tone, as he lied, “Daniel is fine.  He was called out of town unexpectedly for work.  It wasn’t appropriate for Cindel to go with him so I took her over to be with her uncle for a while.”

Kathy’s face didn’t seem to alter much with the news, but she nodded her head as though she was willing enough to accept his word.  Then she shook a finger at her neighbor and curtly reminded him, “Well, you let us know, Jack, if there is anything else that we can do to help.  You know we are always available and willing.”

Jack’s smile grew a little at that and he nodded his head in thanks, giving her a little salute as he took his leave.  His truck sat in the driveway where he had parked it the night before and he jumped in, revving the engine to life.  He had hoped Carter would have been able to give him a lift into the city to pick the truck up with his spare keys but he hadn’t the heart to pull her away from her diligent work.  She had gone from the briefing straight back to her radar telemetry, searching for another clue, more proof, answers.  So the Colonel had called a cab instead.  The truck had about four parking tickets tucked under the wiper but at least it hadn’t been towed—he’d make Daniel pay for them when he got back. 

The Colonel had hoped that he may still be able to smell the lingering aroma of the archeologist’s after shave still in the truck from that night but when he opened the door and jumped in, any trace of the man was long gone now.  The dodge smelled like it always had, of dog and male body odor and fishing gear.  As he backed out of the driveway his eyes caught the half view of Cindel’s pink booster seat on the back bench and a pencil case of markers beside a coloring book. 

It was a short drive to the base, or at least it seemed like it.  Once there he gathered up the girl’s stationary and headed inside.  It was still early.  He had about thirty minutes before he’d be expected to get his gear ready for the first gate with his new SG-1 team.  The thought made him grimace.  It pissed him off that he was expected to gate without Daniel and even more now that his lover was missing.  Still, as a soldier he really didn’t have a choice—feelings or not he’d have to gate out. 

The Colonel made his way to the elevator and then down to the cafeteria.  He hadn’t wanted to linger in the house any longer than humanly possible that morning but he would still need to eat something before he went off world.  The small room smelled inviting when he came through the push doors.  It smelled of scrambled eggs and bacon, sausage and hash browns, although he knew that Fruit Loops were still available on the menu.  The room was also filled with soldiers and other base personnel, filling their plates and their gullets.  The man dumped the girl’s things on an empty table and then grabbed a tray and stepped in line at the buffet table. 

There was breakfast of just about every description before him and it wasn’t poorly done unthawed reheated garbage either.  It was real food with a tantalizingly real aroma that made his gut smile.  He piled the cheesy scrambled eggs high on his plate alongside a small mountain of cubed hash browns, fried to a golden brown with little green flecks on onion throughout, and then he splashed all of it with ketchup, grabbed a cup of OJ, and returned to sit down. 

There sat ‘Berry at his table, thumbing through the coloring book, looking exhausted both mentally and physically.  She was no longer wearing the tight fitted boot cut jeans with those eye catching bedazzled pockets or the green blouse and leather jacket.  All of that had been traded in for the regular gear: green military fatigues, the ankle high standard issued boots, and a black cotton tee that did not nearly as much as the green one had for her bust line.  As Jack approached her head bobbed up, her malachite eyes finding his in a split second, and she forced the barest of smiles, sitting back from the table in the plastic chair.  He kicked the other chair out from the table with the toe of his sneaker and dropped into it, placing his breakfast platter on the table. 

“You know, we here at the base recommend at least six hours of sleep before gating.” He commented dryly, picking up his fork and shoveling a large portion of the scrambled eggs into his mouth.

The smile broadened and it made the soldier feel oddly satisfied.  “I did manage a little sleep.” She admitted, in a quiet tone, “It’s Sam that you should be worried about.”

Jack swallowed and averted his eyes back down to his plate, stabbing his fork with more egg.  “Ah, I never worry about her.  She knows how to handle herself and has proven it already off world.” He pointed the egg filled fork at the young woman and added, “You on the other hand…well, it’s your first time and that is always fun to watch.”

The soldier had expected his wry remark to wipe the cute curl right off the girl’s mouth but instead it grew a little wider and made her stifle a laugh.  Jack looked away again and stuffed the eggs in his mouth.  He chewed and stabbed more eggs with his fork, wondering why it was that his sarcasm had the opposite effect on the young scientist than it did on most everyone else.  As he ignored her pretty smile and dazzling green eyes, she began to answer his sarcasm with what he took for an honest response, explaining, “I’ve read the last two mission files, Colonel, just about a hundred times in the last seventy two hours and I must admit that I don’t think any kind of training mental or physical could prepare one for what that ancient artifact is capable of.  It blows my mind that it is even real, that it is physically here with us, a technology that no human could have ever imagined in their wildest dreams.”

Jack swallowed another mouthful and, irritated by her whimsical answer, he acridly shot back, “Well, I ain’t one for poetry or romance, ‘Berry, but I can guarantee you that there is a hell of lot more to that thing than wild dreams and fantasies.  Don’t step through that gate without understanding one thing: that your life is in danger, every time, all the time.”

He looked away from her for a third time, angry and frustrated.  Again a comment he had intended to drive the wonder out this red head had failed.  In the depths of her malachite eyes he had seen something else—the spark of adrenaline.  He kept eating and she kept watching, the two of them sitting in silence until he was done his plate.  Then through the doors came Skaara and when he announced himself to them with a hearty laugh and that one dimpled side-grin for ‘Berry, the Colonel was certain he caught the woman roll her eyes. 

Jack smiled and excused himself from the two of them, leaving Skaara with instructions for Cindel’s stationary and his breakfast dishes.  The Colonel then made his way to the locker room, passing Carter on the way.  ‘Berry was right, the Captain did look like shit, and when he called the blond out on it she admitted freely that it was most likely true. 

Sam hadn’t slept, was out of leads, and was about to hit the showers.  The young Captain looked guilty as she walked away, as though leaving her search for her teammate went against the grain of her subconscious.  He had always admired that sheer determination in the woman to never leave a man behind no matter what the personal toll.  This was different—one might consider worse.  She was being ordered away.  The matter was no longer under her control and that could be more infuriating when one’s own nature was a strong willed as this one’s.  Soon they would be off world—something that Jack knew was without a shred of a doubt her ultimate goal at this point in her life.  It wouldn’t be sweet though.  Not now.

The soldier bid his subordinate a quick goodbye and turned his own attentions to his gear and preparations for the upcoming gate.  This would be far different than the last time he had gated off world.  He would have two newbies’ to add to his list, one at least somewhat acclimatized to the idea of jumping through a wormhole and traveling billions of miles to an alien planet.  Carter was still new at this whole thing too but at least he knew for certain that the blond would have the ability to shake it off and cover his six.  If he gave the boy credit he supposed that Skaara would be a close second.  It was ‘Berry that he would have to worry about. 

That damn woman unnerved him.  Maybe it was the red hair or the way those damn jeans hugged her hips and ass.  The only thing her knew for certain was that the scientist was beguiling.  He’d never had much for patience when it came to the feminine sex and he had exhausted all hope of dealing with scientists just trying to cope with Daniel, Carter, and that annoying four eyed Robert.  He wasn’t sure he could muster any reserve for this new one. 

The soldier let out a grating sigh and began to rifle through his already gathered supplies in his locker.  He went about the little things first, changing his socks and trading his shirt, spending most of his time trying not to think about ‘Berry or Daniel, or the way Daniel had looked at ‘Berry—like he’d known the woman for ages or at least wished he had.  He tried to keep his mind clear, void of thought, aside from changing his pants and packing his utility vest.  Thinking would get him nowhere.

It wasn’t long after he had finished lacing his boots that the red head entered the locker room, brows crossed and looking uncharacteristically peevish.  When her eyes met his she almost came to a dead stop, brows shooting up off of those brilliant malachite eyes in such surprise that Jack almost forgot he was urked with the scientist—it was hard not to laugh at such an extreme emotional change as that, caused by the site of himself.  The soldier didn’t feel that he had spooked her in an intimidating way.  That pissed look on her face was of a woman seeking solace, a space to be alone in to feel such feelings without the scrutiny of another—she had thought the locker room would have been empty.

All of this had been exchanged in only a moment, of which was promptly ended by the swing of her hips and shoulders turning her back to him, as she busied herself with her own locker.  Her knuckles were white as she opened the door but the movement had been controlled and mechanical.  The young woman really was peeved about something and attempting to control her anger with more success than the Colonel could have ever credited to himself in a similar circumstance.  That kind of perseverance was Daniel’s forte—must be a scientist thing.

Jack turned his back to the woman to, as much out of privacy as it was out of ignorance.  He didn’t care to know what had gotten her panties into a knot— _are they cotton or lace, do you think—_ he shook of the sudden crude sexual thought, shocked at its sudden appearance and where the hell it had come from.  He felt a pang in his gut and then he thought of Daniel.  Woman were pretty things that still never failed to rile his interest but it was the archeologist that he lusted for, no female. 

The young Captain came into the locker room then, still dripping wet in a large towel.  She went to her own locker without a glance or a word at her other two comrades, looking slightly refreshed and focused.  Her skin was pinked and steaming still from the heat of the shower she had no doubt used to release tensed muscled in her back and shoulders that were tired and locked from hovering over those large satellite telemetry maps she believed would unlock clues to her friend’s disappearance.  Her blond hair was a damp tussled tangle on top of her head, hanging down over her right eye and Jack caught her rake it back impatiently from her eyes—recalling her few attempts to grow it longer and understanding in that one instance why she always cut it again.  Carter may be brainy—and he truly had come to admire that about his subordinate—but she was air force at heart and nothing would get in the way of her performing her duty.  That was kind of sexy.

The Colonel closed his locker and turned back to the middle of the room.  Carter flanked his right and ‘Berry was in front of him, as Skaara came into the room.  This was it.  This was his team now.  This was the new SG-1.  A part of him tensed and fought the very real concept, clinging nostalgically to what once there had been that was now no longer possible. 

‘Berry was dressed in her fatigues, cotton tee, and jacket, busy packing her utility vest with the essentials of her trade.  Her boho waves had been collected and tied back into a braid that was wrapped into a tight bun at the base of her skull—no longer long a gleaming and sensual but regimented.  He noticed then that she had also removed even her basic cosmetics.  Her eyes were not rimmed with liner and her lashes were washed of the black mascara, now a dark burnt umber that shimmered with a hint of red.  Her freckles seemed more visible, speckling her cheeks and the tiny straight bridge of her nose, and she applied a quick clear coating of medicated chap-stick to protect her lips.  She noticed his assessing glance that had transmitted into a stare and the young woman spread her arms as if presenting herself to her team leader, asking him, “Anything you would recommend that I change, Colonel O’Niell?”

It was a formal tone that she used, free of that sexy purr and slight drawl that he had heard her use with her archeological peer.  He looked her up and down in a sweeping glance, more for effect than anything else, and then pointed at her boots, demanding, “Tuck the pants into the boots, ‘Berry, and re-lace them.  It’s more practical.”

Then he grabbed his baseball cap and sunglasses, barked at then to hurry their asses up and assemble in the gate room for departure, and left.  The six wheeled remote controlled wagon was piled high with their supplies and the soldiers were cocked and on guard.  General Hammond was there too, looking stiff and grim-faced serious.  Jack walked briskly up to the Texan and gave him a formal salute, to which the General reciprocated. 

“Good luck out there, Colonel.” The older man said, looking up at his subordinate.  “We will keep the search for Dr. Jackson active and when we hear something I will radio the MALP.”

“Thank you, General.” Jack responded, with a nod, as his team mates began to file into the room, fully armed and ready to gate.

The General address the entire team now, looking amongst them as he explained once more the purpose of their mission, the hopes of the nation and world with this opportunity, and the responsibility that came with it.  Then he had the gate opened and no one flinched—not even ‘Berry.  Stone-faced the team saluted their commander and with his order, moved out.  The supply wagon went first, controlled by Carter, who followed after it.  Then Skaara.  ‘Berry was beside him on the ramp before the watery surface of the suspended pool of water that would transport them clear across the galaxy in the blink of an eye.  He hesitated and swung his arm towards to gate in invitation for the woman to go first.  She glanced at him, the barest of smiles on her lips, and then she took a commanding leap and jumped straight into the shimmering surface, as though she were puddle jumping.  Jack followed her and in an instant they were on the other side, in the drizzling rain of the mountainous planet.

His team was assembling at the bottom of the ramp.  Carter was showing Skaara how to control the wagon and ‘Berry was moving to join them.  Jack pulled on the brim of his hat to attempt to shield his eyes from the worst of the wet misting rain and hunkered his shoulders to pull up the collar of his jacket.  It was going to be one hell of a wet cold miserable mission.

“Move out, Captain,” he ordered, as he came down the few steps that led up to the flat stone platform that the massive ring was situated on, “let’s find cover and set up camp.”

“Yes, sir.” The young blond responded, handing the controls of the wagon to her Abydonian counterpart, as they all began to move away from the tree-less meadow.


	37. Chapter 37

“Damn, it’s miserable out here.” Jack cursed, his body giving an involuntary shiver as the wind picked up and the cold drizzling rain somehow managed to get its way under the collar of his jacket.  Hunkering his shoulders instinctively he shouldered his P90 in its strap and brought his hands to adjust the coat collar in an attempt to make it somehow go higher.  

 

Skaara was to his right, just as cold as the boy had probably ever been in his entire life.  His entire frame was shaking and kept rubbing his hands together, blowing inside them like the Colonel had shown him to keep his digits warm.  His small nose was cherry red and he sniffed as they walked, working at laying a secure perimeter for the camp that the Captain and ‘Berry were setting up, thankfully in the shelter of a large cave opening that they had found not far from the stargate. 

 

Jack was confused when he realized that they were not on the same planet that the Captain’s dialing computer had sent the original SG-1 to in his alternate time line.  He had just expected that to stay the same, to face those Mongolian-esque womanizers that Carter had proved so wrong and effectively emancipated the segregated and supressed women and girls.  This planet although similar to many that he had visited with his original team was not recognizable.  He was sure that if Daniel were with him that the scientist would have already known whether or not they had been there before just by looking at the gate address, but Jack hadn’t figured that out yet.  It was like so many others and yet strangely unfamiliar all the same.  The biggest distraction being the crappy weather and resulting chill that was cemented into his bones already.

 

It was hard to remain silent when one was wrapped in the military rain gear.  The rain slicks were plastic loose fitting tunic-like drapes that squeaked and rustled with their movement through the meadow near the dense trees and despite the fact that Skaara was a trooper and unwilling to complain on principle Jack knew damn well that the boy was finished.  They had walked a mile wide perimeter, taking note of the terrain, using a compass to navigate their way along, and looking for any signs of inhabitants.  So far they had seen nothing.  Not even a damned rodent or bird.  Nothing was out in this drizzling wet-hell except their sorry asses.

 

Calling it quits, hoping to hell the woman had a damned fire going and a dry space to sit, he marched the younger man back to their base camp.  They arrived soaked to the bone and sniffling but were rewarded with the heat of a fire and some hot food.  Rations sucked no matter how you ate them but at least they were warm going down. 

 

They had changed out of their wet gear, socks, and boots, toweling off, and dressing into something dry before settling down to rest and eat in silence.  ‘Berry wasn’t there, gone off further into the caves depth exploring, much to the Colonel’s chagrin, and Carter was preparing a mineral sampling kit to take some samples from a few of the cave’s visible stalactites.  Skaara was damn glad to be warm again and said so frequently, annoying both of his comrades.

 

The Colonel was settled on his bottom, arms relaxed on the tops of his knees, fingers fidgety, busy shredding the silver plastic wrap from one of the ration packets, back reclined against the uneven hard surface of the cave wall.  His brows were drawn together, knit in agitation, disappointment, and regret.  He ignored the others around him, blocking their actions and conversation out, dwelling solely on his need to know where in the hell his lover was and his awfulinability to do a damned thing about it.  Instead of trying to figure the whole bloody mystery out he was stuck on this freakin’ cold mountain, light-years away, trying to train a new team to replace the perfectly balanced one the soldier had once commanded, in his government’s attempt to explore the galaxies beyond them.  The man use to enjoy gate-jumping, the thrill and adrenalin of the exploration and unknown dangers, the look of pure scholarly bliss that light his lover’s eyes, pinking his cheeks, as he stepped through a crumbling doorway of some ancient alien temple…

 

“Don’t pout, Jack.” He heard Daniel say.

 

The Colonel’s head bobbed up, like a buoy held under water, rushing back to the surface, eyes calculating reality, even as his mouth snapped, “What?”

 

Skaara and Carter both looked at him, eyebrows raised in question.  The Abydonian was the one that answered his stuttered question, saying the obvious, “We didn’t say any words, O’Niell.”

 

Jack waved a dismissive hand at the two of them and got to his feet, choosing to ignore that the situation had happened at all.  He brushed the dirt and dust from the cave floor off of his pants and dismissed himself with a wave at the younger man across the fire from him and a curt order to his subordinate.  “Hold the fort, Captain.”

 

Carter gave him a thin smile and nodded her head in acquiescent acceptance of her duty, before turning her attention back to the yellow case opened on the stone floor in front of her hunched form and the glass capped vials in her hands.  The blond would let him leave without any explanation but he hadn’t taken two steps away when Skaara rose and attempted to follow him.  Jack didn’t want company.  He gave the boy a quick excuse, explaining that he wanted them to keep in pairs—for safety—and explained that he was going to round up his MIA scientist.  The young militiamen gave him a smile but he could tell that in the depths of those umber eyes the boy felt spurned to remain behind.  He would have to get used to it. 

 

Even if he was put out the kid was obedient.  He sat back down by the burning flames of their small fire that kept the chill from the stone walls of the cave and so Jack turned and left them behind, walking deeper into the blackness of the cave’s tunnel.  It didn’t take long for the dark to overcome his eyes and he had to stop, fumbling in his pockets for his small flashlight.  The white light from the tools beam was enough to light only about ten feet before him and as he slowly walked on he was soon encompassed by the quiet black of the tunnel.  It wasn’t silent.  He could hear Carter and Skaara still talking behind him, a muffled echo that filtered down the tunnel like a ball bouncing down the length of a tube, indistinct when it finally reached him.  He could also hear water running, could see it in places where it trickled down from the ceiling of the rounded tunnel and pool in small puddles on the floor, slowly draining to some unknown destination within the mountain.  He could hear the odd chirp of an insect—or was it bats?  His boot falls were raucous in comparison, filling the quiet more than a once stealthy soldier would be proud of. 

 

The Colonel wasn’t really worried about finding the stray archeologist.  He was actually glad that the tantalizing redhead was entertaining herself and out of his hair.  Her distance from the team was just a convenient excuse to keep the others put so he could get some air alone to clear his head.  He didn’t want to think about Daniel…couldn’t anymore…

 

The Colonel’s mind moved on, taking hold of the red head’s image in his mind’s eye to wonder once more what exactly it was about the woman that urked him so fierce.  At times her very presence was incredibly annoying and provocative at the same time.  It had little to do with the fact that she was a scientist—or that she was smart, pretty, and perfectly proportioned—it was that she was taking his lover’s place at his side.  But there was more.  Something else that he wasn’t sure he knew how to interpret. 

 

Through the darkness of the ongoing tunnel the soldier was suddenly aware that there was another light source ahead.  No doubt ‘Berry’s flashlight.  He wondered what it was that had captivated her attention so intensely—a cracked pot?  Scratches on the cave wall?  Some poor sucker’s old bones?  As he rounded a curve in the tunnel the darkness revealed the young archeologist was standing stock still and facing corner of what appeared to be the end to the tunnel—like some campy ninety’s horror flick.

 

The hairs rose on the back of the Colonel’s neck as his quick eyes took in the suspicious scene.  The scientist’s flashlight was on the floor a few inches from her feet, pointing away from the wall.  From its light and that of his own he could see that she was standing like a specter, perfectly still, hands held out slightly from her sides and legs slightly parted—as though she were waiting for something.  His pace slowed.  “’Berry?” he whispered inquiringly, as he came to a stop about three feet behind her.

 

“Jack?” came her quick rushed whisper, the unmistakable note of hope and thanks expressed in the way she called his name. 

 

“What are you doing?” he snapped, still unsure if he should approach her.  As his eyes scanned her figure, trying not to take note of the way the fatigue’s hugged her hips and backside or the way her free red waves curled down over her straight shoulders, he realized she was shaking slightly—her entire form was quivering.

 

“I need your help.” She quickly explained in a rush, “Don’t ask questions—just come around to my front—very slowly…”

 

Jack could sense the intense control in her voice, the way she spoke each word demonstrating her attempt to keep calm.  The Colonel did as she had said, taking slow quiet steps to circle around in front of the deathly still young woman, giving her figure still a wide berth.  He had the flashlight on her form, low enough to not blind her, and as he rotated to come and stand before her, he suddenly realized the full depth of the situation. 

 

The young scientist had removed her jacket and around the neck of the cotton tee the beam of light glistened off of a straw like appendage about the width of a ball point pen, bristled with thick spiny hairs.  He twitched the light upwards and there in full view on the archeologist’s shoulder was an insect with a body the size of his closed fist and legs that probably stretched four inches.  It closely resembled a spider.  It had small egg-shaped head which sported gargantuan fangs, a round leathery thorax spotted yellow and brown, and a tail that arched back over the length of its body like a scorpion, stinger included.  The soldier sucked in a breath and swore. 

 

“It was attracted to the heat of my body.” She said.  Her tone was steady—masterfully controlled—even though the massive black stinger on the beast of a bug twitched an inch from her ear.  “The bigger they are the less poisonous.”

 

“On Earth maybe…” Jack hissed back at her, motioning with a closing motion of his fingers for the red head to zip it—whenever she spoke the tail of the insect bobbed, as though the vibrations of her vocal cords unnerved the thing. 

 

‘Berry’s teeth sunk into her bottom lip, stopping herself from sucking in a sharp breath, as the ten legs on the dinner plate sized bug worked together to move it forward.  Three insect-steps and the thing was tilting downwards over her chest, its front legs dipping through the fabric to catch on the top of her bra cup.  The tail arched over its back and dangerously brushed past the turn of her jaw.  The woman’s eyes squinted shut in reaction for just a second, her breathing still controlled but quickened.  How much more could she take before she lost her cool and freaked? 

 

The Colonel couldn’t allow her to get stung by a massive alien spider-scorpion hybrid, with Lord only knew what kind of poison pumped into her veins.  He looked about the floor and their feet.  A stick would have been really handy right about now but there was nothing in sight and he had nothing of the sort on him.  There weren’t even any good-sized rocks on the tunnel floor that he could brain the thing with—even if it did break the damn red head’s collar bone—at least she’d live to tell about it.  But he had nothing.  His brows knit in frustration and he muttered another curse, as he mentally wracked his brain for a solution. 

 

The damned bug took advantage of his hesitation and took another step down.  ‘Berry instinctively arched her back, making her chest flatter, as though she meant to give the animal a shelf to make his home on snuggled between the cups of her bra in the cotton of her tee.  Jack could see the massive things fangs rubbing together, as though it were laughing mockingly at him or contentedly preparing for the first taste of the scientist. 

 

Then there was a lightning quick motion, a flash of movement in the darkness that was so swift and so sudden that Jack actually jumped back a step from the woman.  Then there was the echoing stamp of a boot and the unmistakable splat of the insect meeting its end.  His flashlight was on her boot, the legs of the insect sticking out in all directions and its stinger twitching in death behind her heel.  He flashed the light back to her face and realized that it wasn’t triumphant.

 

Her teeth were still sunk into her bottom lip and her brows were crossed in pain.  Lowering the light the man could see that her hand was pressed tightly against the right side of her chest, which heaved with quick breaths.  “Son of a…” he muttered, “Did it sting or bite?”

 

“I couldn’t tell ya,” she grunted through clenched teeth, “but it damn well hurts.  Hold the light up.”  The Colonel watched her remove her tee, turning his head slightly away out of modesty.  From the corner of his eye he could see her assessing the damage, her finger squeezing a spot on her skin just north of her right breast and close to her shoulder, just inside the red strap of her bra.  She winced and grunted in pain but it did not sway her intent. 

 

Feeling useless as all hell and slightly uncomfortable with the young woman’s state of dress, he turned more away and shoved his idle hands into the pockets of his fatigues.  His fingers immediately enclosed the contents and squeezed, the sudden recognition hitting him that there were a few tissues folded there.  He pulled them out and waved them at her for the scientist to accept, vision still averted out of privacy. 

 

“Not good enough,” he heard her say through clenched teeth, “I need your help.  Suck it out.”

 

The Colonel turned back to the archeologist with a patronizing glare, his thin lips drawn tightly closed in response to the demand.  He wanted to shake his head but he could see the wound was still oozing the pinkish venom—so it stung then—the puncture mark swollen with what was still left inside.  His extensive survival training began to blare through his mind like one of Daniel’s narrated documentaries, reminding him that he could help fix this—even though every cell in his being was sparking with the intense desire not to go anywhere near that damned woman’s chest.

 

“I just can’t get it all out and I can’t do it for myself.” She reiterated, her voice still even but in obvious strife and pain.  Her malachite eyes raked over his frozen form and when he still hadn’t budged, the scientist hissed a curse in some language he didn’t know and acridly snapped, “Dammit, Jack, do I have to say please?”

 

The soldier swore back at the belligerent red headed woman—who had stormed into her own damn mess much like he had bailed Daniel out of so many times before—to lost in her own desire to explore, find, collect, understand that she was blinded to the dangers that an alien planet could present at any moment, at every turn, in every shadow.  He took the breadth between them in one step, grabbed her around her small chest with one large arm, tilting her back to bring the top of her breast to his mouth.  He heard her gasp with the suddenness of his action and then could feel the breath hitch in her chest as his lips clamped down, his other hand squeezed the sensitive area, and his mouth sucked.  The venom was slightly sweet, he had to fight the urge to swallow, and he pulled until the taste was overcome by the tang of iron.  Then he dropped her.

 

The scientist lost her balance and fell backwards on to her rump on the cave floor, scalding the Colonel with narrowed malachite eyes full of malice.  He turned and spat the mouthful, using the tissue to wipe his lips.  Ignoring the woman’s contempt he welled his mouth full of saliva and spat again, grabbing his half full canteen to gargle.  It was all the man could do to clean his mouth and when he was done he turned back to the crazy archeologist, only to find her suddenly in the rough arms of another man.

 

‘Berry struggled to free herself but the man was much larger than her petite frame could over throw, despite her fierce thrashing.  The silver armor of the serpent headed guard was unmistakable.  Jack froze, his P90 uselessly slung around behind him, the safety on, as there was the unmistakable sizzle of staff weapon opening.  The barrel of the deadly weapon was trained on his chest when the giant snake headed helm retracted back into the collar of the armor, revealing a stern face, with thin arching eyebrows high over dark narrowed eyes of a man the Colonel had in one lifetime called ‘friend’.


	38. Chapter 38

 

Daniel saw her mouth move, saw her pale lips spattered with droplets of blood say his name though no audible sound came from them but the haggard breaths that hitched and coughed, as the wetness of tears rolled from her hooded blue eyes. 

 

“Sam!” he cried out, reaching out his hands only to be stung by the electrical shock of the alien force field that encompassed him.  As he pushed past from the blast of pain that had knocked him back into his lover’s arms his brain kept swirling with the constant and steadfast belief that this couldn’t be happening, that this wasn’t real, that Teal’c was still alive and Sam wouldn’t die.  “No…”

 

“Don’t look.” The Colonel demanded, in a voice that was cracked and hoarse, drained of emphasis.

 

Daniel couldn’t.  He stared at his friend, at his colleague, as the teammate he had shared hundreds of missions with, who had guarded his back and kept him safe just as he had reciprocated for her.  Her lips moved again…saying his name…then she was still.  Her body moved by the volition of the aliens that dissected her, piece by piece, lifelessly awkward, now more marionette than human.  Her blue eyes seemed grey, glassy with death, starring out at him half hooded.

 

His body shot upright, his limbs flailing, his eyes wide and wild, as his screamed protest echoed off of the walls around him.  His chest was heaving short deep breaths that couldn’t get enough air into him.  Without his glasses the room around him was a dark blur and he rubbed his hands over his face, slick with a cold sweat that covered his entire body.

 

The nightmares weren’t real.  They had been, were true, were his reality, but now were just an echo of the onetime horror they had been, relived in his mind’s eye only.  That had all changed.  They had changed that, they had changed time itself, they had been given a second chance, they could stop it, they could save them, save all of them. 

 

The cool air around him wafted over his damp skin, sending a chill through him and lighting goosebumps over his skin.  The shiver seemed to cement his mind in reality, shedding the shackles the nightmares always caught him in, and his body relaxed.  He folded his legs in front of him and he pulled on the sheet that covered his body, idly wondering where he had kicked the comforter to this time.  Mind lost in the fog of waking, he groggily considered why he had slept in his clothes, realizing he was still wearing his jeans and polo, even his shoes.  The scientist took the time to clear his mind, keeping his eyes closed, as he mentally ran through his numbers in each language alphabetically.  Worked every time.  When he was done his breathing had returned to normal, his pulse had slowed, and his chest had stopped aching.  He thanked professor Jordan’s study technique and the use he had twisted it to become so advantageous now with what he had been through and experienced.

 

The trauma of losing Nagada must have broken the mental roadblock he had managed to finally raise in his mind against the horrific memories that haunted him.  Sha’uir had lived through his reoccurring nightmares, night after night, terrified for him at first and soon just sympathetic and comforting.  Now she too was gone.  Perhaps they hadn’t changed anything.  People were still dying.

 

The archeologist knew that he couldn’t lose himself in the negative thoughts that had suddenly cropped up in his mind—that they were and could be devouring, all consuming, destructive right down to the core of his being.  He dismissed them, replacing them with the thirst lingering in his dry throat, and swung his legs around to the side of them bed.  As his legs dangled over the hard edge, it was then he realized he wasn’t on a bed.

 

Spooked by the sudden revelation he jumped off of the hard stone surface that he had been on, his shoes meeting with the metal floor beneath his feet, and his dead weight fell into the pit of his stomach.  Mind whirling he spun on his heel to see that he had been laid out on a long thin plastic bench, a large rectangular structure that seemed to come up out of the floor itself.  What he had thought was a sheet was really a thin shimmering silk-like fabric.  The room was still small, dark, and hard to assess without his glasses, but the floor was metal, solid, with no rivets or joints.

 

“No…this can’t be…” the words ghosted from his barely moving lips, as his throat constricted with the panic that was quickly over taking his senses.  He backed away from the table he had awoke on, the eerily familiar work bench to that the he had seen in the Vashen vessel those six long years ago making his heart feel like it was in a blender, set to puree.  “Cindel?!” he cried out for his daughter, as his mind raced rampantly, “Jack?!  Sam?!  Anyone?!”

 

The only sound was the reverberations of his voice bouncing off of the walls.  The archeologist stumbled about in the darkness, nearly blinded between the blackness and the fact that his glasses were missing.  His chest heaving, mind racing, breath hard to catch, it was everything he could do just to assess the room, to attempt to focus on something that might direct his fear led scrambling.  There was a dark shape in the blur that surrounded him that cleared to become a very visible doorway—escape!  He ran to the opening and was hit with an electrical charge.

 

Flailing his body shot upright and he was hit suddenly by the lingering heat that hung in the Abydonian air, as he tore the covers away from his naked body and scrambled to his feet.  Lungs burning, eyes wild, and head spinning, he saw the blurred form of his wife sitting in the middle of their straw mattress, head framed by her dark silken curls, as she softly called to him, “It was just a dream, my Dan’yel…no more.”  Her melodious accent with the English words calmed his frazzled nerves.

 

The archeologist shut his eyes and counted.  It was all a dream, just a dream, just a terrifyingly real dream.  When he opened them again, his breathing halfway normal again, she was there.  Her arms softly and soundlessly wound around his torso, her delicate fingers tickling their way up over his shoulder blades as her head came to rest against his chest.  He hugged her back, finding the tenderness of her body pressed against his soundly reassuring.  He brushed her curls back and kissed her temple softly, the press of his lips against her warm olive colored skin more certainty that he was home.

 

Sha’uir pulled her head back, tilting her chin upwards.  Dark umber eyes crinkled as the soft spread of a smile curled the corners of her lips.  She laughed softly, a chuckle that deepened suddenly and seemed to reverberate from the depths of her diaphragm on up and out of her throat.  It twisted to an oddly dark and malicious mirth—the snake!  The scientist pushed spaced between them, eyes focusing on her contorted features as the tone of her voice deepened and her iris’ flashed white. 

 

Daniel threw the goa’uld back, managing to dart from the room through the small curtained doorway just out of range of the blast wave that emitted from the glowing ribbon device wound about his wives delicate digits.  He ran to his daughter’s room, crying out her name, “Cindel?!”  Raking back the curtain he was affronted with the headless body of Kasuf, stretched out on his small child’s bed, Cindel’s small woven orange woven blanket wrapped into a ball where his Good Father’s head was missing.

 

The scientist’s little daughter stood there like a frozen spectre.  Her dark lashed blue eyes were white and wide with fright, staring blankly up at him.  The dark complexion of her skin was nearly grey with death it was so pale, lifeless, and when her rosebud mouth parted he heard her whisper, “Run, daddy.”

 

There was movement from the direction he had come and the archeologist threw himself into the room, once again narrowly missing a blast wave fired by the goa’uld queen that had infested his innocent wife.  His body tumbled onto the small sleeping pallet that the stiffened body of her decapitated  father was stretched out upon.  The man scrambled over the death stiffened limbs to reach his daughter, to protect his precious little child from seeing what her mother had become, but when his arms encircled the form of his girl—everything went black and quiet.

 

With his eyes screwed shut, the archeologist counted.  Arabian, Belarusian, Cantonese, Dutch, English…one, two, three, four, five…French…

 

“Daniel,” the man could hear his name, called from somewhere close beside him, by his lover.  It was quiet, reassuring, caring, loyal, contented, affirming…Daniel wanted to believe that it was real.  Wanted to know that Jack was there, close to him, and very truly real.  But all the same he couldn’t will himself to open his eyes, which brimmed with tears of rage and fright, despair and hopelessness.  The archeologist heard the familiar chuckle which was followed by the sarcastic question, “Rise and shine, Danny boy, there’s fish to catch.”

 

Something changed.  He was warm, he felt safe, the tears evaporated from his wet lashes and his eyes opened.   The archeologist turned his head on the pillow beneath it, blurred vision meeting with the smart ass cockeyed smirk on the soldier’s mouth.  The man was on his haunches by the side of the bed, head close to Daniel’s on the mattress.  His large hand came down and rough fingers ruffled the scholar’s hair, messing it into a tangle, before the silver haired man stood, fingers beckoning for him to follow.  Daniel fought a yawn, knowing even as he did, that this could be no more real than the last two terrifying scenarios his mind had ruthlessly catapulted him through. 

 

But it was nice.  It was quiet and nice.  Safe.  Secure. 

 

As Jack walked out of the small bedroom Daniel wondered when he had last been to the cabin with Jack.  Years and years ago.  He rolled onto his back, kicking the sheet and comforter with his legs to free them for the movement.  He was still wearing his clothes.  His shoes were still on his feet.  What an odd dream.

 

“C’mon, Daniel.” He heard Jack call, now somewhere down the hallway. 

 

The scientist closed his eyes, yawned again, and gave his face a cleansing rub with his hands, as his name was called again—somehow different this time—and he felt a hand shaking his shoulder.  “Daniel?” the voice called.  The timbre wasn’t Jack, but still was somehow recognizable.  The archeologist rubbed his face again, lastly his eyes, before he opened them again. 

 

The cabin was gone, the room around him was awash with white glaring lights.  His eyes narrowed, squinting to see past the blinding light, when a hand shook his shoulder, squeezing happily as the voice that had spoken his name last, laughed cheerily—as though he was being applauded for waking.  The archeologist tried to bring a hand up to shield his eyes, when suddenly the lights were cut to half strength, and he could clearly see the soldier sitting beside where he was laid.

 

“Ferreti?” Daniel choked on the name, his throat drier than he had anticipated.  The scientist tried to sit up to get a better look at the man he had assumed was dead but his body was a dead weight.

 

The soldier leaned in closer, still chuckling, as he pressed a hand to the younger man’s chest and instructed, “Welcome back, doc.”

 

Along with being extremely dehydrated and weak, the scientist had a glaring headache to go with it.  He shut his eyes again, managing to bring a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, where his glasses were still notably absent.  “Where am I?” he asked the very real sounding apparition of the soldier he knew was dead, who sat close by his side.

 

This obviously wasn’t real either—couldn’t be.  Where was he?  What was happening?  Why couldn’t he find reality?

 

“You’re on a small spaceship,” Ferreti explained, casually, “near the edge of the galaxy.”

 

Odd but not out of the realm of possibility.  “Why am I here?” Daniel asked, eyes still pinched closed, as he tried to will away the splitting ache resounding within his cranium.

 

“To save the Earth, doc.” Ferreti stated simply, chuckling again.  “The Vashen need our help.”

 

Blue eyes flashed open, gaping in horror at the very real man that sat beside him.  “Did you say…Vashen?”

 

Ferreti just nodded his head, confirming the validity of his statement. 


	39. Chapter 39

As good as it had been to see his old friend again, and to know that in this timeline he was still alive and well, it was shitty to be captured by the large Jaffa that still seemed to be in the employment of his tyrant boss.  Teal’c had not been alone.  He had an entire company of serpent guards with him and the rest of the team had been taken unfortunately as well.  They were all then transported to the other side of the mountain to a waiting goa’uld mothership, the enemy sufficiently placing an insurmountable barrier between the Colonel’s team and their only means of escape.  So much for the success of his first mission through the stargate.

 

For the most part they had been captured without much trouble.  Carter had been clocked unconscious by the butt-end of a well-aimed staff weapon and she sported the gash and bruising to prove it.  Skaara had ended up in worse shape.  He had grappled with the guard that had taken out the Captain and had been ambushed from behind by another two guards, who had pummeled the kid senseless.  The Colonel was pretty sure that his ribs were just bruised, not cracked, although the boy refused to complain about the obvious pain he was in.  ‘Berry had struggled so violently against Teal’c’s strength that the Jaffa finally chose to throw the small woman over his shoulder, dangling her by the crock of her knees so low over his back that her thrashing was effectively thwarted.  Then he opted to give Jack the old zat-blast, without a word spoken.

 

Jack had woke up in a cell, knowing instantly where he was by the lack of décor, and ‘Berry had filled in the blanks.  She was the only one that the Jaffa had not knocked unconscious—she clued in after she learned that her other two team mates were out cold that she should just shut up and hang on for the ride—proving she those looks were not wasting her common sense.  At least they were all alive, even if they were in quite the pickle.  Carter was already trying to figure a way out and ‘Berry was trying to convince Skaara to let her check his ribs.  It was the first bit of attention the Colonel had seen the woman give to the Abydonian and it was first time Skaara had wanted nothing to do with it.

 

The Colonel had eventually asked the scientist to cut it out and leave the kid alone.  He was tired of listening to their whispered bickering and there wasn’t a whole hell of a lot they had to help him even if they were cracked.  The guard had stripped them of everything useful. 

 

The cell they were in was plain, devoid of any panels or openings.  It was only about six foot by six, squishy for four full grown adults, and getting hotter by the minute.  They had stripped the heavy coats and all of them were beginning to glisten with a layer of sweat.  ‘Berry more so than any of the rest of them.  The Colonel wondered if that had to do with the alien’s sting, but the archeologist solemnly swore that she was in no discomfort, other than the obvious sensitivity to the gash in her skin.  The blond Captain had checked the other woman over, as discreetly as their circumstances provided, and reluctantly agreed with the red head.  The wound was a nasty dark purple circle the size of an orange, hot, swollen, and oozing slightly, but not life threatening.  Again, there wasn’t a whole lot else they could do for the woman even if she did require it.  The goa’uld sure as hell wouldn’t care if one of their prisoners dropped dead.

 

It was a long time before they were joined by anyone else and Jack was slightly surprised to see Teal’c was the one to show up at their cell door.  The mechanical doors opened without warning to reveal the stoic Jaffa, staring grim faced at the four of them down the length of his nose, eyes narrowed on them in scrutiny, cold and black.  The Jaffa looked no different than the last time Jack had seen him.  The golden serpent mark on his forehead seemed to glisten, as though it had been polished recently, and his head was covered thick dark curls that twisted tightly to his scalp, sheered short against the sides.  He stood tall, staff weapon in hand, still young and rippling with muscles.

 

“Well, it’s about damn time, Teal’c,” the Colonel snapped, wryly, as he gestured at the unfazed guard before him, “let be honest, this isn’t the best accommodations you could have provided.  It’s freakin’ hot, cramped, and quite frankly we are all getting just a little bit cranky.”

 

“Why were you here?” the Jaffa said, the low slow resonance of his voice chillingly familiar and dreadful all at the same time. 

 

Jack moved to answer the question when ‘Berry was suddenly at his side, just as annoying as the man she had replaced, as she answered before he could get the words out.  “We are explorers,” she explained, flashing the tall black alien that soft supple smile she had given Daniel in his office days earlier.  Teal’c’s face didn’t move in response, her charm having little effect on the first prime of Apophis.  “We are travelers that have come to this planet through the stargate.  We are seeking out other cultures and races to trade with—?”

 

“Where are you from?” the Jaffa ended her eloquent introduction, his almond shaped eyes zeroing in on the small red head with little appreciation.

 

She placed a gentle palm on her chest and explained, “I am Dr. Delia Quisenberry and—?”

 

The tall man leaned in towards the small woman, and barked forcefully into her pretty face, “Where are you from?!” effectively silencing the red head.

 

“What does it matter to you?” Jack snapped back, with a caustic smirk at the tall soldier.

 

The square head of the serpent guard twisted to peer down at him and after a long moment of silent malicious staring, Jack received a sharp blow to the gut from the butt of the Jaffa’s staff weapon that sent him sprawling backward onto his backside.  The Captain and Skaara were so close that they managed to catch his back and keep him from going right over—ass over tea kettle—and then the Jaffa roughly grabbed the young red head around the back of the neck.  His large hard nearly encircled the girl’s entire throat, his thumb and fingers digging visibly into the taught muscle, as his arm lifted her ever so slightly from the ground.  She gasped and winced in pain, as she struggled on the toes of her boots to reduce some of the obvious pressure. 

 

Then Teal’c turned an about face, the young scientist struggling to keep up with the strong movement.  The doors closed again, trapping the three of them in the cell again, as Jack watched the last glimpse of his archeologist being hauled away by the soldier.

 

“Dammit.” He swore, banging his closed fists on the back of the doors.  If anyone had been taken for questioning he had wanted it to be himself. 

 

They spent a long couple of hours in silence before the doors opened for a second time.  The unconscious body of the red head was tossed inside, hitting Skaara square in the chest.  The kid was knocked flat onto his back but he had managed to catch the young woman and saved her head from hitting the stone floor.  Teal’c was there, this time with two other henchmen, and he pointed a demanding finger straight at Jack.  “Bring that one.”

 

Jack was wrestled from where he sat and hauled to his feet.  He gave little struggle, there was no sense in it.  Getting himself killed wouldn’t save his subordinates.  So he went with the guards willingly, following them down the twisted and turning hallways of the maze like structure of the ship.  By the time they reached the transporter rings that took them to an unknown floor he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to figure out his own way back. 

 

He was taken before a huge ornate set of doors that reached nearly thirteen feet into the air.  They were inscribed with many hieroglyphics, shimmering gold in the glowing light of the hallway.  This sure as hell wasn’t the dungeon or interrogation room.  The guards stopped before the door and he got a quick slap of a staff weapon to the back of his knees that sent him on down with a teeth clenching yelp.  The henchmen knelt close, a hand on his neck holding his head facing the floor and another pressing down on his back.  It was all he could do to keep himself from being crushed to the floor. 

 

The Colonel couldn’t see anything except the movement of Teal’c’s feet.  He heard a banging on the doors, like knocking, and then the doors gave a mechanical fizz and pulled open.  He could hear a goa’uld controlled voice address the first prime, with a tone of delighted satisfaction at seeing Jack brought before them.  Then the guards were dismissed and Teal’c grabbed the soldier under the arm and hauled him into the large open space of a cavernous room.

 

The space was hauntingly familiar to Ra’s mothership.  It had been over a decade since Jack had actually been in that awful ship and yet the memory of it was crystal clear in his mind now.  The space looked open to air above, the large triangles that formed the very peak of the ship were retracted and pulled back to allow the natural light in.  No rain fell inside though the soldier could clearly see it dappling against an invisible surface more than forty feet in the air above them.  Long draping silks in deep plums and scarlet reds, ivory and golds, fell from high above to the floor, some translucent and others thick, all collecting around a single alter where two large ornate chairs sat side by side.  One was slightly smaller than the other.  Both were empty.  The room itself seemed empty.  He looked around trying to locate the goa’uld that had heard moments ago, finding the silhouette of a figure standing behind a sheer curtain wall.

 

The Colonel received another slap to the small of his back from Teal’c’s staff weapon, thankfully only half as strong as the last few had been.  The snake-controlled figure behind the curtain beckoned to him, addressing him merely as human, and he obeyed moving towards them.  The unnatural timber of the controlled human voice did not register in his mind as being the snake-gods.  It sounded lighter and as he came around the curtain he realized that the goa’uld was a woman, who was standing in front of a large round window overlooking the picturesque view of the mist shrouded mountains.

 

The figure of the woman was full, a beautiful hourglass perfectly accented in the ivory halter that was open in the back displaying alond-colored skin all the way down past the dimples at the base of her spine, where it then dropped in a shimmering cascade of fabric over her round backside to the floor.  Long dark curls were pulled half back in plates that were secured tightly to the scalp, intricately beaded with gold and silver and gemstones of every color, before it was let loose to fall in large ringlets down over the back of her shoulders, some of them brushing the bottom crescents of her shoulder blades.  When the goa’uld turned to face him, there was a large paw that came to his shoulders and forced him onto his knees.  Teal’c was there by his side and presented the soldier to his Queen, Amaunet.

 

The Colonel cursed the name of the snake in the woman’s head and damned the one that had put it there, when he looked up into the narrowed slits of the almond shaped eyes that looked down the thin straight nose at the slave that had been brought before her.  Thin perfectly sculpted brows arched over the dark fan of lashes, as the plump rouged mouth parted into a wicked looking smile, full of satisfaction.  The female gave a deep dark chuckle, the sound completely and utterly inhuman in both its depth and its malice, as she twisted a round apple-sized fruit in her hand before her.

 

“My host remembers you, human,” the alien Queen admitted, scoffing as she came a step closer to him.  Jack didn’t want to believe his eyes—didn’t want to admit the cruelty of this twist of fate—and so he looked away from the woman and tried not to think of Daniel.  “She had not thought fondly of you, for reasons that honestly intrigue me immensely.”

 

The woman bent forward and he felt the small fingers of her free hand grip the sides of his chin, forcefully drawing his face upwards to look into the eyes of the wife of his lover.  She smiled a cruelly sick smirk and explained, “How you ended up here within my care is a mystery.  One I look forward to unpeeling.”

 

The snake controlled woman brought the round hard fruit to her mouth and with a sinking cloying anxiety the Colonel watched her perfectly straight white teeth sink into the maroon colored flesh of it with a crisp wet sounding snap.  How many times had he been threatened by these monstrous tyrannical beings?  Yet never before had he felt so uneasy.  He couldn’t pit whether it was the fact that Sha’uir, despite everything that they had tried to accomplish had somehow still been found and chosen to be Apophis’s queen, or the fact that Daniel was still missing and now he would be effectively prevented from trying to find the archeologist.  Either way, he detested the way his stomach flipped and twisted in knots as he knelt submissively before the egotistical alien. 

 

The woman’s dark umber eyes lit with the white glow characteristic of the master twisted about her spine and yet the lowering glare seemed no less vehement than the last time Daniel’s wife had very willingly raked him with those narrowed eyes.  He knew damn well what interested the snake about the way Sha’uir had considered his character—he had been the _other_ —the name mumbled in her husband’s sleep and the roadblock that had hindered the closeness of their intimacy.  Daniel had loved Sha’uir—Jack knew that—but he understood now completely that towards the end the woman herself had not quite been convinced.  The wicked smirk at the corner of the plump lips that had last time scorned him with only a frown seemed to Jack like what Sha’uir might have considered a well-deserved kick in the gut. 

 

The woman although she had loathed him had not deserved this fate—the very reason the Colonel and the archeologist had attempted to change time had been to prevent unthinkably awful outcomes such as this.  However, the daughter of Kasuf, who had been presented to his friend as a peace-offering-bride and had fallen for the archeologist’s simple charms, had never looked more beautiful and terrible.  Her olive skin glistened with an unnatural glow, her hair shimmered with a black-blue ebony that even Elizabeth Taylor would have envied, and despite having borne and nursed a child her amble bosom was perkier than a cup of expresso in the morning, all this boosted vitality gifted by the puppeteer controlling her.  Apophis had spared no expense dressing the curvy woman either.  Her slender throat atop her prettily rounded shoulders was swathed in a collar of jewels, gold, and silver that pointed down her chest.  Her slender fingers and even her hair sparkled with lavish jewelry.

 

The woman waved her hand dismissively at her servant and the large silent Jaffa nodded his head obediently.  He stepped back and dropped into a deep bow before slowly walking back over to the large ornate doorway, where he took up his post, coming to stand as still as a statue.  Jack could just barely see the man around the wall of fabric, yet it made the captive feel a little bit easier to have his old friend close by, even if his allegiances were looking to be in the snake-heads favor.  

 

Amaunet reached out again with her free hand and her slender fingers passed through his hair, as though she were a hair dresser about to give him a trim.  She mused as she did it, moving to inspect the scar that decorated his eyebrow, the turn of his jaw, his thin lips, and his square chin.  The umber eyes ended up on his, staring intensely into his own depths, as though she meant to read his thoughts.  She'd only find out that the soldier was a little weirded out by the vigorous pawing he was receiving from his lover's wife.  

 

"My host feels angered still to see you." the snake-headed queen announced bluntly.  The look of malicious amusement that contorted the pretty woman's face made Jack cringe more than the proclamation of Sha'uir's dislike of him.  The queen chuckled, displaying a peek of those perfectly straight teeth through the full lips that parted with a smile.  "Even now she is writhing with such a fierce enmity just at the sight of you that I am tempted to come closer to you just to feel her scream within this body."

 

Jack cracked a wan smile and mockingly snapped, "Very considerate of you."  

 

The goa'uld gave a sudden short cackle of laughter and then she leant forward, her mouth sealing against his, hands capturing his head in a kiss that he refused to reciprocate.  It was quick and passionless, done solely to entertain the snake in the woman's head, and when she was done she stood back and laughed some more.  The soldier brought a hand to his mouth and wiped the taste of the queen from his lips.  It earned him a sharp back hand, so strong that he was knocked backwards onto the floor.  Damn the snakes were strong!

 

The Colonel winced and rubbed his jaw with his hand, noticing that Teal'c was watching.  When their eyes met the still guard looked calmly away.  Amaunet kindly lifted the layered skirts of her gown and stepped gingerly over the soldier under her feet and walked to the two thrones situated across the room on the alter.  She ascended the steps in jeweled slippers and parked herself in the larger of the two chairs, sitting cockeyed and draping her feet over the arms.  She took another bite of the fruit, chuckling to herself as she chewed.  As he rolled over and came up onto his knees she extended a hand towards him and curled a finger, beckoning him to join her.

 

The Colonel sighed.  He was too old for this shit.  Reluctantly he came to his feet, the weaker of his knees popping in protest.  Slowly he moved towards her at a canter and when he came to the bottom of the steps, she took another bite of the apple, asking him as she chewed, “Is it true, Taurie?  Did you take this human’s mate for your own pleasure?”

 

The soldier could feel the blood rushing to his face.  He wasn’t sure himself if it was more out of embarrassment or anger, peppered with a whole shit load of disgust.  The ignorance of these bastards never failed to offend him.  He pressed his lips into a thin line, his teeth digging into the inside of his bottom lip, as he considered whether or not to answer truthfully and why the hell the damn thing cared.  The woman peered down at him, a flauntingly flirtatious smile having taken over the mocking smirk.  She looked pretty and confidant, the way that Jack imagined she might have tried to tease Daniel into making love, long before she had to consider Jack’s interference.  She took another bite from the purplish fruit, chewing enjoyably, before she demanded, “You will answer me.  My host demands it.”

 

Jack’s curiosity was piqued at that.  Sha’uir demands it?  The host has that much control or the snake is just honestly relaying the trapped woman’s emotions?  It was an odd stray in the behaviour that he was accustomed to from this horribly predictable race.  As he was thinking this the woman seemed to nod her head, as though she was falling asleep.  Jack narrowed his eyes on the dazzling figure of his lover’s wife, as she brought her legs down from the arm of the chair and commandingly came to her feet. 

 

Those dark umber eyes were suddenly wide with a fierce silent-rage, nostrils flared, lips pursed, and fists clenched, as she stalked down the steps towards him.  The small woman came straight up to him, cuffing him strongly, across the other cheek with the back of her forearm.  He stumbled backwards from the power of the altered woman’s force and the woman bellowed at him, in an unaltered shriek that Jack knew was truly Sha’uir herself, “Did you?!  Answer us, O’Niell!  Did you take our Dan’yel, our husband, from us?!”

 

The Colonel was paralyzed by the sudden revelation that he was being tortured by her as much as it.  His hesitation fueling the duo’s outrage earned him another backhand that this time sent him reeling to the floor, where he was kicked in the chest repeatedly.  The air was knocked from his lungs, leaving him gasping, before he was able to block the blows with his forearms.  From his protective position on the floor he tried to breath, hearing the angered woman call to her servant, “Get me the kara kesh!  I will know!”


	40. Chapter 40

“I still can’t believe it.” Daniel mumbled, as he raised an arm up to rest against the large circular circumference of a window that over looked a beautiful teal planet, swirling with white clouds, and glowing with the unmistakable glow of an atmosphere. 

 

“Well, believe it, doc, because it’s all true, as unrealistic as it may seem.” Ferreti reminded him for what seemed like the millionth time since he had awoken from the strange cycle of dreams to find that the airmen was very much alive and real.

 

The archeologist’s mind was still reeling from the entire ordeal.  His brains was foggy and painful, throbbing from the overload his system had sustained due to whatever it was his body had been submitted to over the last several days.  The airmen that had inexplicably risen from the dead had been short on any kind of detailed answers to the many questions that bombarded the scholar’s already short circuiting mind.  At least Ferreti had his glasses—the blurred vision had only intensified the pounding in his cranium.

  
The planet below seemed peaceful, floating alone in the darkness of space.  Far more so than the archeologist was.  It had been confusing to truly awake to a reality that seemed so fake, so incredibly unbelievable, and it had been even harder for the scholar to wrap his mind around what came next. 

 

The soldier explained in earnest all that had transpired since the devastation on Abydos, so many days prior all while the archeologist sat in silence, one minute step beyond complete stupefaction.  Daniel’s brain had been a little scrambled by the crazy-real dreams that had wielded his mind while he had been in some kind of unexpected transporter induced coma, then by the realization that the man before him was alive, only to be complicated even more by the story that had followed.  It was all a little much to take in, in the state that he had woke in, but the soldier wasn’t about to let up—it was imperative that Daniel understood—and now! 

 

Daniel stared out the window at the silent planet, so majestic in its simple beauty, dominating the scene with its teal glow, as he mulled over Ferreti’s tale and all its oddities.  They had been so wrong and yet so right about the attack on Abydos.  While he and the others had been trapped in the temple by the whirling sand storm Nagada had been attacked by Apophis.  The mothership had fired on the city through the howling dust and sand, completely unpredicted and unseen.  Taken by surprise the soldiers along with a few others, Sha’uir, and Kasuf had tried to hold the house from the barrage of serpent guards that swarmed the city, killing all that they happened upon without mercy.  Their resistance hadn’t lasted long, out manned and out gunned by a never ending stream of alien guards.  Ferreti had seen Kasuf killed, knew that Kawalsky had sacrificed himself to allow himself and Sha’uir a few more moments to attempt an escape.  There had been nowhere to go and he was down to one magazine.  The soldier had taken a piercing shot to the shoulder, passed out, and woke up on this ship with the Vashen.

 

The aliens had healed the soldiers wounds and had shown him the destruction of the city on Abydos, explaining in short that Apophis had finally considered the city a threat to his reputation.  After Ra’s demise his rival had taken advantage of the extreme shift in power and had rose to supremacy, so much so that the snake-god had come to rule over all other system lords.  Abydos had been forgotten about in the melee, Apophis was too busy dealing with fellow rivals, and once he had control of them all he came back to wipe out the slaves that had overthrown his competition to keep others mindful of his empirical power and tyrannical ruthlessness. 

 

The Vashen had saved who they could, a handful of Abydonians and one soldier.  Sha’uir wasn’t amongst them.  The Abydonian’s had already been returned to the planet that Apophis had abandoned, wanting to bury their dead properly.  Ferreti had stayed behind, mindful of the alien’s plea for help.  The Vashen wanted Daniel.  Ferreti still wasn’t quite clear on exactly why other than the fact that they claimed it would save Earth from a goa’uld invasion.

 

Daniel found it hard to believe that the goa’uld were the race to be feared.  In his mind they were still defeated, as they had been in his timeline.  It took effort to remind himself that the time shift had changed all that, had detrimentally skewed the scale in Apophis’s favor.  Without the stargate program beginning and the Tau’rie’s rise to power in the galaxy the snake-head had run unchecked and unchallenged, taking what he wanted from those that he could manipulate and control.  It only made sense to consider if he had done away with the people of Abydos because of what had happened to Ra that it would not take him long to head to Earth to do the same.  Earth was an untapped resource, full of slaves for the taking, and according to the Vashen it was the next on the supreme system lord’s wish list.

  

Daniel still wasn’t sure what he thought about trusting the Vashen.  After what he knew of the bastards it was hard to think otherwise.  Ferreti certainly seemed to have a different take on the race and he was alive as proof of it.  Still the archeologist couldn’t overlook what had happened to his team mates in the other timeline at the hands of the same aliens.  

 

“They want to meet you, Jackson.” Ferreti insisted, crossing his arms and leaning his shoulder against the other side of the circular window’s jam.  The soldier was still wearing his dessert fatigues, which appeared brand new, completely unscathed by the battle they had seen on Abydos.  Peering across at Daniel, he emphasized, “Ya know, Drydac knew that you wouldn’t like ‘em…that you wouldn’t believe he were here to help.”

 

The scholar’s brows creased with that thought.  He attempted to amalgamate some kind of a response from the jumbled thoughts that crashed together in his brain, but the soldier beat him to it.  “That’s why they waited.  They wanted me to ease you into the idea.”

 

“And what kind of an explanation did they give you for that?” the archeologist asked succinctly, lips pressed together in agitation.

 

Ferreti shrugged his shoulders in a clear don’t-know-don’t-care-fashion.  “They said you’d know why they did it.”  The soldier narrowed his eyes and after making a clicking sound with his tongue against his cheek he shook a finger at his peer and chided, “Ya know, doc, no offense here but…generally when one’s life is saved by someone you gain a smidge of trust with them.  I’m a soldier,” he pointed at himself, his eyes widening with growing emphasis, as his tone darkened with his own mounting agitation, “all I care about is my duty to my country—hell, the whole damn planet, Jackson!  I watched those Abydonians being exterminated—just because we saved their asses six years ago from that freak Ra.  I sure as hell ain’t gonna watch that happen on Earth.  So when they told me that they needed you—that you and Jack could help somehow—I didn’t hesitate.”

 

It was all Daniel could do to steel himself from contradicting the soldier’s holier-than-thou rendition of the Vashen with his own far more horrific experience with the alien race prior.   Prior—Prior was the key word that the time shift had imprinted on his brain and his lips.  The scholar was aware enough to perceive that what he thought he knew didn’t matter now.  Obviously he couldn’t count on some things now—the time had been altered—things had changed.  He would have to meet with the aliens himself and take that chance.  With a long sigh, he marshalled his resolve.  He planted his hands on his hips and asked the soldier, “So when do I meet them then?”

 

Ferreti smirked at him and gestured over the scholar’s shoulder.  Daniel turned to see that there was a rectangular space inset into the wall, much like a bare closet.  “Stand in there, doc, and it’ll take you straight to ‘em.”

 

As the scholar stood in the darkened space he considered what it was that drove him to desire this audience with the Vashen that he had so hated and feared for the last six years—that had murdered his friend and dissected Sam with no real sign of remorse or conscience.  When the bright light of the transporter enveloped him, the thought of Sam cradling her lover as he took his last breath flashed in his mind, just as he rematerialized somewhere else. 

 

This room was quiet and dark, shadowed by faint lighting somewhere within.  He appeared to be alone and instantly his brain began to theorize, speculate, and curiously investigate.  The scholar took a step forward and with the movement the darkness within the interior of the room began to recede, as though pushed back by his invasion.  Another step proved to be something different entirely.  The blackness in the room vanished and suddenly he was standing in the entranceway of Jack’s home.  The room was still dark, lacking any lights and illuminated only by the silver light of the moon peeking through the half closed blinds on the living room windows and the contrasting warm light that came from the kitchen. 

 

The man’s brain took a moment to process what had just happened.  This was real—sort of—it was obviously some kind of a holographic system that had replicated the home he knew so well.  Why and how was still beyond his comprehension but in the end he settled on accepting that at that exact moment it didn’t really matter.  Daniel kicked his shoes off on the matt, as he had done a hundred times before, and strode into the kitchen.  The house was perfect.  The colors, the temperature, the atmosphere—despite being knowledgably manufactured there was still something calming about being in that place. 

 

The light was on above the sink, casting a warm glow about the kitchen.  The coffee was perked, nearly a full pot.  Jack was at the table, one mug in his hand and another full, waiting at the seat opposite him.  Daniel froze.  His breath hitched.  This was all so real—but was he?

 

The silver haired man arched that scarred eye brow at the scholar, his sable eyes scanning the younger man’s face.  Then he pointed a finger at the empty chair across the table and grunted, “Sit.”

 

Everything was the same.  The cupboards, the dishes in the sink, the newspapers collected on the end of the table, the smell of cheap coffee, even the succinct way that the older man had invited him to table was strikingly similar.  Even though this was far from what he had experienced with the deadly Vashen before, it was still far more unsettling that that mechanical-like replica of his lover that had appeared out of the blackness of the forest on P53 652.

 

The younger man moved to obey the demand of the soldier in front of him, unsure altogether where his sanity had gone in midst of all these mind scrambling circumstances.  He plunked down into the wooden chair a little harder than he had intended, his ass noting that the mild pain was certainly real enough.  The aroma of the coffee, although obviously not his favourite gourmet beans, was still tempting to his palette and his hands encircled the mug almost instinctively, the first two fingers of his right hand slipping through the handle with such an air of familiarity that the man had to stop and mentally remind himself none of this was real.

 

The liquid in the cup was certainly real, warm, and satisfying.  He took a tentative sip of the dark brew, finding it surprisingly similar to the knock-off brand that Jack didn’t understand was subpar and purchased to save a few bucks.  Still it was coffee and this was home and there…there was Jack. 

 

The older soldier’s silver hair was a little mussed, the way that it looked after love making, his strong chin showed just a hint of stubble, and his eyes were fixed on Daniel, intently watching—outright staring.  The square tips of his digits were around his own mug, but he made no attempt to drink from it.  Those thin lips, which Daniel dreamed so many nights would whisper his name, were drawn into a thin line that curled ever so slightly at one corner, making the Colonel appear to be very pleased with himself.  Still they didn’t move to speak and as the silence settled amongst them the scholar could stand it no longer.

 

“Why have you brought me here?” the words came out a tad fast, heated by his mounting confusion and blistering frustration.  “This is a Vashen ship, is it not?  I’m certainly not on earth anymore in the place that you have replicated here.  Very nice by the way, Jack would be impressed at your accuracy.”

 

That little curl grew, turning from pleased to downright cocky.  The soldier’s hands fidgeted with the mug, shifting it from side to side between his fingers, as his eyes left the scholar and stared downcast at the lightly sloshing brew.  “We pride ourselves on our accuracy.”

 

Daniel knew that it was the alien talking, the Vashen, but it sure as hell sounded like his lover.  So much so he had to remind himself to breath.  As the scientist sat there stunned for a moment, eyes scrutinizing, fixated on the silver head across from him, those eyes suddenly flashed back up at him.  “You are correct.  This place is not real.  It is a fabrication that I have made for you, to help sooth your anxiety over meeting with us.  We understand your apprehension.” 

 

“Really?  You do?” Daniel bit his lip to keep himself from spilling a few swears along with accusations that were cropping up on the tip of his tongue, ready to sting.  He took a moment and recalculated his thoughts, marshalled his reserve, and started again.  “If you have pulled this place from my mind than you must obviously know why I would be inclined to hate you and your race and therefore be disinclined to help you.”

 

Jack’s lips pursed and his head nodded his acceptance of this blunt judgement, very much as the man Daniel knew so well would have easily accepted that about himself which he was not proud of but was nevertheless a part of him.  “This we understand.” The alien said, for the first time sounding a little bit less like the man he duplicated.  “Even so we have come, we wish you to assist us.  Your influence on our race has been great although you have no comprehension of it.  The shift you caused changed more than just your world, your time, your lives.  It has changed many.  Some for the better and some for much worse.  Our people, the Vashen race, differ greatly from the consuming beings that you and Colonel Jack O’Niell encountered on that planet, six year prior.”

 

The scientist swallowed and then interrupted the other man, interjecting with a call for clarification.  “Do you know this because you took this from my mind now …or?”

 

Jack was suddenly still and quiet.  His eyes closed and his head shifted from side to side, slowing answering ‘no’.  “I know this,” he answered, the voice of his lover now changed back into the mechanical tone of the alien, “because I was there.”

 


	41. Chapter 41

The Vashen had changed.  A race that had been bent on destruction and consumption as a way of living, prolonging, furthering themselves, was now peaceful.  Six years had been enough time to reroute the hostile nature of their own government, to seed the ideals of peace, prosperity, and loyalty.  It was remarkable really—a feat worthy of applause from any other race in existence.  Drydac had always despised the government’s final desperate attempt to sustain the life of their own dyeing planet.  It was in truth an act of piracy—taking from other viable planets to replace what they had depleted greedily from their own—but even as a high ranking government official his voice had gone unheard, shushed by those who disagreed with him through threatening whispers of treason.  His only option had become one of the threat so harshly and unfairly delivered upon himself.  He joined one of the pioneering vessels that was leaving to plundering the galaxy, in hopes that he may be able to persuade those in control of the lunacy that their desperation had brought upon them all. 

 

It had been the reason why the defector had been there when Jack and Daniel had flipped the switch and reversed time—Drydac had heard of the aliens found on the planet, the so called travellers from Earth—a planet whose resources were still plentiful and rich, as told by the information gleaned through their physiological adaptation, absorption.  The time machine—for that was what his people had known the device to be, even if they had been unable to unravel the exact means of activating it—had been quickly forgotten when it became apparent that the humans were unwilling to aid them.  That last glimmering of hope that Drydac had held onto, that time could be reverted and things could be changed, all dashed by the commander’s change of orders.  They would rape the humans world instead, which would provide them with the last large portion of resources that the vessel could carry back to their home. 

 

Drydac had wanted to stop it, had wanted to have his own chance to persuade the humans, but before he had been able to accomplish anything one of the four had been murdered and the female had been dissected by their research department.  Absorption had led them to suspect that even though the humans didn’t know the time machine that they physiologically were the only beings capable of activating what the alien race had deduced was its function.  Although they could replicate the form of the humans physically, they had been thus far unable to use that natural ability to activate the machine. 

 

Drydac had managed however to prevent the last two from meeting the same fate.  He had managed to release them but they were untrusting and had fled.  The alien had caught up to them just as the machine was used, he was caught in the time radius of the shift, and had found himself mysteriously back at home, with his mate and offspring—suddenly six years in the past—long before any of those fateful mistakes had been made.

 

A race that had once murdered Daniel Jacksons friends, coldly dissected for research, now had come to understand the right to life that every being in the galaxy shared, no matter what their intelligence or disposition.  This single alien had been trying to help them, had used this spin of events to the advantage of many—saving lives.  Now his intentions, here, were the same. 

 

Although all that Drydac and the Vashen had accomplished by relocating their races home on another uninhabited planet, others within the galaxy had advantageously used the time shift—even if they were unaware of the second chance that had made it possible.  Apophis had risen to power by taking over what Ra had already started and was now a threat to many races throughout the galaxy.  The Asgard were engaged in a heated war with the regenerative replicators and so the armies amassed by the one supreme system lord had become too much for the Tok’ra and, now, the Vashen to hold off indefinitely.  The snake god had somehow found the knowledge of the time-shift technology and was on the hunt for the device—whose location was still thus far unknown.

 

Drydac had spent a good part of his time in power with the Vashen trying to redirect the races focus and values, which he had done successfully.  Little thought had been put to the machine that had caused this second chance.  It was imperative now that the machine was found and although the shape-shifting alien had found the tablets depicting the device and presumably its use on the planet where the device had originally been found, only a human could activate the tablet that hid the key to locating the ancient device.  He had not wanted to involve Earth but he could now see no other choice.  That was why they had made this mad dash to the planet, its location found using Ferreti’s knowledge of the men that the alien sought. 

 

Now here the archeologist was, trying to wrap his brain around this crazy scenario.  Daniel was having trouble with the focusing part of that task—an unfortunate reaction he alone seemed to have to the telepathic absorption the Vashen race was incapable of shutting off physiologically.  It was an unfortunate predicament that couldn’t be avoided.  His mind simply rejected the process of absorption that before it had never even noticed.  As though he were having an allergic reaction to this process his brain would scramble—images and memories and events from his past mixing and mingling, like a blender was breaking down his thoughts into a puree of what they had originally been.  So far it only seemed to affect his idle thoughts; that point where the brain wanders or begins to slow and shut down, making rest nearly impossible.

 

Drydac had reassured the scholar of his daughter’s continued safety, shuffled amongst personnel in the infirmary at the base during the day and watched over tirelessly by the kindly doctor Fraiser at night.  Although he didn’t voice it the linguist was pleasantly surprised and proud to see how well his small daughter had done without him and now without Jack, who he had been informed had taken a mission off world with his new SG-1 team.   Cindel was strong and unafraid, like her mother.  Despite being young she was not one to cringe in the face of something new or different.  She was dealing with the loss of her mother far better than he himself had contended with the death of his own parents, even now after she was apart from the majority of her close knit support.  The girl had made her own support in their absence, gathering it through the smiles and kind looks all those around her shared at the sight of the little abydonian being herself, as she skipped carefree through the stark cement halls of the silo.  It welled a great sense of pride within the father and he was satisfied enough to allow for the few more days they would be apart. 

 

Drydac had brought him the tablets in earnest, still using the form of the Colonel, offering to create any space from the scholar’s memories if it would aid the speed of the translation.  This proposed idea had at first thrown the linguist off—any space from his memories?  That was impressive to say the least.  After a short moment he collected himself and decided upon his own office on the base, from his prior timeline, so that he would have all of his research and collective texts at hand if he needed them.  In a moment his order was granted and the room quickly transitioned from the clean seamless architecture of the alien vessel to the cramped cement walled office, deep within the silo, filled to the brim with bookshelves, artifacts, and journals of every description.  Even his worn in office chair was there. 

 

Ferreti enjoyed the familiar sight of the SGC, clearly evident in the warmth that lit his features as he settled into the soft old couch half covered in loose papers and file folders.  Daniel wasn’t as keen to see that he would have company during the translation, noting that the alien in the form of his lover still had settled into a chair on the opposite side of the desk, sable eyes uncharacteristically eager.  The scholar sighed heavily—he would just have to work around them—they needed this more than he did, to feel that they were a part of this process.  The man sat in the chair and Drydac produced the small grey tablet and a small oval shaped crystal—a page turning device. 

 

The egg-shaped crystal was light in his hand, yet oddly comforting.  His eyes studied the tablet in his other hand, noting the subtle differences in it from other devices that the others may not have seen.  The shape was distinctive, slightly more pentagon shaped than a goa’uld device, the face of it smooth and blank, the edge intricately detailed with a more Dendred-esque boarder—Ma’chello then?  There was a good chance.

 

In his mind he recalled all that he could of the elderly gentleman they had found in his final supply lab on Tonnem, where the Dendredan had continued into his old age to equip those willing to fight the snake-gods.  The man that had nearly succeeded in stealing the archeologist’s own body in order to enjoy another lifetime, of which he felt he was owed to him by his dedicated service to the rebellion.  The rebel had amassed many technologies and weaponry in an innumerable number of secret locations around the galaxy, all of which were lost with the death of the hero.  This tablet could very well be one of the same man’s.

 

With anxious eyes watching the scholar waved the crystal overtop of the blank surface.  There was a ripple that distorted his view of the tablet for but a moment before writing appeared on the tablets surface.  It was goa’uld.  The linguist pondered that for a moment.  Many of the devices were meant as a means of destroying the users—booby-traps.  Doubt crept into the recesses of his mind, as his eyes roamed the characters that seemed to make broken sentences at best.  If it was a map to the device, it was encrypted.

 

“Are you certain this will lead us to the device?” the scholar asked the alien across from him, his eyes leaving the tablet only for a brief moment.  It had been long enough to see the unmistakable crease of frustration and doubt knit the Colonel’s silver brows.

 

The alien rubbed his chin and mouth with his hands, sighing, before he replied.  “I know only that it resembles the tablet exactly that my people found prior with the device.”

 

“But you never actually used it, did you?” the linguist surmised.

 

The alien shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.  “We were never able to activate it, even in the form of a human.  Ferreti here activated this one but as you would already know, both of us were incapable of reading it.”

 

Daniel’s full lips pressed into a thin line.  This didn’t bode well.  The tablet could be of anything, found…?  It had been found where the aliens had found the device in the timeline prior.  So it had either been found and consequently moved by someone else or circumstances had prevented it in this time line from getting to where it had been prior.  Both conclusions were extremely unhelpful. 

 

“What does it say, doc?” Ferreti pestered, as the scholar looked up to realize the soldier had abandoned the couch and was beginning to pace anxiously.  “It has to say something—there has to be some clue!”

 

“It’s encrypted, without a cypher I am not sure how much good it will do us.” Daniel admitted, looking once more at the characters on the first page of the tablet.  As Ferreti groaned in palpable vexation, the linguist waved the crystal over the page again.  It was the same.  Words that didn’t seem to mean anything together.  The third page was the same.  The fourth was a goa’ uld decree.  In truth, a mocking of a decree meant to infuriate false gods.  Definitely Ma’chello.  “Where was this found?”

 

The alien had his chin propped up in his hand, elbow braced on the arm of his chair, looking perplexed and sullen.  At Daniel’s request he sat back in the chair, butt scooching to the front, as he clasped his hands and lowered them into the splay of his legs as he leaned back on the rest.  “It was found on the planet below, Hal’ona, in a bunker we found buried in a mountain range our vessel had been harvesting for minerals.  There were a few other things stored there with it but nothing seemed connected to it besides the one tablet.  Some of the symbols on the device appeared on the pages of the tablet.  That’s why I was certain this tablet was similar.  Although it is not exactly the same, if my memory serves me right.”

 

“They appear here?  Please, show me.” The scholar felicitously demanded, using his forearm to rake piles of papers and books aside, as he laid the tablet between them. 

 

Page by page they went through it, Drydac pointing out which symbols matched and the scholar quickly scribbling them down on paper.  If it wasn’t the same device than there was the chance that it may be a map.  If it was a map the only question was if it was a real map or a decoy.  Daniel still found it odd that it was written in goa’uld.  If it was a map then there was a possibility that the map was an afterthought from Me’chello—who at which point could no longer physically make it to the hidden lab to retrieve it, but would send the recipient after it.

 

Once the symbols were written down something familiar appeared between them.  In the order they had been written down the symbols correlated with numbers and intermittent letters.  Daniel was struck by the resemblance the code seemed to bare to Earth’s longitude and latitude measurements.  “Ferreti,” Daniel called over his shoulder to his comrade.  The other man was at his side before he even got the question out.  “If I wrote this like this…” he said, as he scribbled the symbols down again, as English numbers and letters, “…what do you see?”

 

“It’s a location, doc.  Plain and simple.” He affirmed, with confidence.  His finger reached out and he tapped the last seven symbols on the page—the one’s that didn’t translate because they were constellations.  “And that’s a gate address.”

 

“Yes.  It is.” Daniel replied, circling the individual groups of symbols.

 

Drydac was so curious that he stood from his chair and came to peer down over top of the paper, anxiously demanding, “A gate address—for the stargate?  To which planet?”

 

“Could be any of ‘em…” Ferreti sighed, resignedly, standing back as he folded his arms and began to pace again.

 

“No,” Daniel answered, his eyes darting to the curious sable eyes of the alien’s borrowed form.  “It’s P53 652.”  The other two shot him an impatient look, filled with silent demand, as he cleared his throat and clarified, “It’s the planet where we first met the…”

 

“Vashen.” Drydac finished, suddenly aware of the grave coincidence that this turn of events bore.  Quickly he began to elucidate, as if to justify their position on that planet at that time.  “We found the device there originally but I have already been to that location.  It is gone.”

 

“So this get’s us a whole hell of a lot of no-where.” Ferreti irritatingly surmised in a churlish tone that made his frustration that much more palpable.  The last bit had gone over the soldier’s head completely, confusing him more than he already had been.  The archeologist didn’t blame the other man’s mounting frustration.  He had no way of comprehending what had just been discussed, as it had never truly happened as far as the soldier’s lifetime was concerned.

 

“Only if the coordinates are the same.” The scholar broke in to remind his two counterparts.  They hadn’t even looked at a map and already definitive conclusions were being drawn.  The other two bodies in the room seemed to vibrate with anger, frustration, and an intense sense of urgency.  It wasn’t that the scholar didn’t feel the same way or that he didn’t empathize with their salient emotions—he could see the bigger picture.  Misinterpreting what little information they had to go on would be a grievous mistake—worse than taking the time to fully understand every single detail.  Both men—alien and man?—seemed poised for action and Daniel knew better.  The bigger problem was the pounding in his cranium, the proximity to Drydac only making it worse, making it hard to focus.

 

The alien seemed to sense this.  He rose from his chair and sighed, explaining in short that he would retrieve a map to compare the latitude and longitude.  As he moved from the holographic room the pain quickly receded, giving the archeologist a much needed reprieve.  Daniel was exhausted.  His elbows came to the desktop and he lowered his head caringly into his hands, massaging his temples with his fingertips, secretly hoping that the alien took a while to come back.

 

“This ain’t your first rodeo with the Vashen, is it doc?” Ferreti asked, in a low voice.  It was more of a statement than a question and Daniel wasn’t sure he wanted to respond.  The soldier didn’t seem to be willing to let it slide.  The other man sat down in the chair that the alien had left and leaned in towards the desktop, arms folded before him and a knowing curve to the corner of his mouth, as he announced to Daniel’s annoyance, “I get it.  The tension now.  Why it scared the piss out of you when you realized where you were…What I don’t get, is why or how—“

 

“And I’m not going to enlighten you.” The archeologist ended the conversation succinctly.  He lifted his weary head long enough to give the soldier a thin smile of mocking apology—he wasn’t sorry, he was incredibly aggravated.  Ferreti’s prideful smirk turned down into a dissatisfied scowl, as his small eyes narrowed even further on the civilian before him.  Daniel gave a resigned sigh and adjusted the glasses on his nose, averting his eyes from the disgruntled soldier.  He did not want to deal with this.  Not ever.  Especially not now.

 

Ferreti leaned back in the chair and folded his arms over his chest in a clear display of aggressive defiance.  He wasn’t going to give up.  The scholar kept his mouth shut.  He wasn’t going to give in either.  There was really no way to help the soldier to understand.  He had not the same experiences as his ‘other’ had had in the time line before—he would have no ability to even consider something as complex and unimaginable as time travel and second chances…even if he desired to.

 

“Look, doc, I ain’t so stupid.” He said—that line alone contradicting what he intended to dredge up as a solid argument.  “I think I can work out just what happened to you—why you know these aliens—but what I wanna know now is…is this device really more important than sounding the alarm on Earth?  Preparing for an invasion?  Shouldn’t we be back there getting ready to fight these bastards rather than going on this intergalactic treasure hunt?”

 

Daniel shook his head. “No,” he admitted quietly, as he raked the hair back from his eyes and sat back in his own chair.  “You know as well as I do, Major, that there is nothing on Earth to combat a goa’uld mothership.  And it wouldn’t just be one.  It would be hundreds.” 

 

The soldier got that point but the scholar could see that there was still a hint of confusion and frustration surrounding the hunt for the device.  Drydac obviously hadn’t given the Major much information to go on—surmising correctly that his sense of obligation and duty would be enough to push the soldier forward.  Daniel sighed and relented.  “Look, we need to do both.  This device would prove insurmountably detrimental if it were to fall into goa’uld control.  We need to keep that from happening above all else and we need to stop the invasion of Earth.  Drydac feels that the goa’uld are too close to finding the device or we wouldn’t be spending our time here.  If we can get the device, even if the invasion happens while we are doing it, we could…” The scholar hesitated.  Was this too much?

 

“I knew it.  It’s some kind of time machine.” Ferreti proudly stated, the curl to the corner of his mouth a testament to his own sense of accomplishment.  “That’s why you know them…that’s why you and Jack are so important.  You were then and now you are…now.”

 

Daniel was indeed astonished.  Perhaps he had ignorantly underestimated the Major’s capacity for understanding something as complicated as a time shift, which had in some aspects created two different irreversible time line’s—the archeologist had considered this too big for most people to swallow and understand and yet the soldier had somehow deduced this from his limited time on the alien vessel with Drydac and the last conversation.  It was indeed easier this way, to have the soldier understand completely.

 

“That’s why the funny reunion on Abydos, when you damn near mowed the Colonel over.” Ferreti continued deducing, much to Daniel’s embarrassment and chagrin.  The soldier was alight with pride and then his brows knit as the man considered something else aloud, “Oh, man, that’s why your wife couldn’t stand the sight of Jack…you two were…”

 

Daniel’s form launched forward in the chair as he cut off the soldier’s further inquiries—his mind now focusing down a different path that the scholar wanted very much to avoid.  “Of which is no consequence now.  The ‘now’ is what we need to focus on.  Finding the time shift device.”

 

“Right.” Ferreti agreed, as he sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, a mirthful grin across his face that made the archeologist red faced and very uncomfortable.  It had been bound to come out at some point—the fact that they were now reengaged fully in their past relationship having a lot to do with that. 

 

Thankfully Drydac chose an opportune moment to rematerialize in the holographic office, a round disc in his hand.  The alien—still in the form of the Colonel—gave an apologetic smile, which contradicted the character of the man he resembled.  He stepped up to the wide military desk and Daniel worked to clear a small section of cluttered papers, files, and books, for the device in the alien’s hand.  To the unknowing eye it would have appeared to be a slightly bigger hockey puck.  Drydac placed it in the middle of the desk that the archeologist had cleaned and pushing a button in its surface that had been invisible to the untrained eye, a large scale projection in purple hues and tones rose four feet into the air from the center of it. 

 

Drydac manipulated a few characters that the scholar had not the time to recognize, even though they had been familiar.  Then he manipulated the projection with his hands, flipping, opening, widening, enlarging, with his hands until there was a visible replica of the planet they were orbiting before them above the desk.  Ferreti examined the projection with an awed gape.  With a tap of his finger in mid-air more characters suddenly appeared, very closely resembling some kind of keypad, with lines of the alien characters arranged in rows.  The alien typed in a code and a white dot appeared on the planet.  More code and a second appeared in another location, close, but distinctly different.

 

“It has been moved.” The words slipped from the Colonel’s lips, as a smile turned the corners of his mouth.

 

Daniel stood from the chair and pointed at the second dot.  “That’s the second location, from the tablet?” he clarified in earnest, receiving a nod from the Colonel.  “So it may still be there…”


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to give all my readers and followers a quick shout out! Thank you so so so much for reading along with me as I write this fic! It has been an experience. It was a test, that much must be certain to you by now. It was a test to see if I could do it. Keep going. Finish, without giving up before the end. Dedication is key, as a reader myself I understand that, how it feels to read to the end of something right at the climax and see that there is no hope of an ending. (we all have done it, it's okay.) I had intended to end Second Chance a while ago, but I always came up with a new idea, a new side trip, a new more brilliant way of ending it. I can see the light at the end of that ever going tunnel now. Soon, this will come to a close, and I just wanted to thank all of you for helping to get there! I am so excited and yet I know that a part of me will be reluctant to type 'the end'. Your encouraging comments have been my driving force. I cannot express to you how happy I am to have had you along for the ride!
> 
> Thank you!

“Damn drizzle.” Ferreti complained bitterly, as he was slowly soaked by the constant mizzle that descended like wet fog from the dark cloud cover over head.  “Gimme the blistering Abydos suns any day.  There’s just no escaping this.”

 

Daniel raked the wet tendrils of his long hair back from his face and forehead, his fingertips already wrinkled from the moisture that soaked his entire person.  As technologically advanced as the Vashen were none of them had thought to check the weather forecast before the two human volunteers were transported from the small Vashen vessel to the planet’s surface.  The coordinates that they had found for the device had narrowed their search down to a three acre plot on the ragged mountain range that ran north and south across the continent on the planet, clogged with spruce, sentinels, and rough terrain, all slick from the constant rain that misted without a break.  They had been slogging through the underbrush and rocky outcroppings of the mountains base for nearly—he checked his watch—two and half hours.  They were soaked through and Ferreti’s sarcasm was approaching the patient archeologist’s breaking point, when they happened upon the entrance to a cave.

 

“About bloody time.” The soldier crowed happily, ducking into the dark entrance without any forethought.  Daniel was a little more wary but the state of his clothing and his aching feet was growing cumbersome, so he followed the soldier inside without comment.  Ferreti raked a hand back through his hair and the short crop seemed to shed droplets like a sprinkler shooting water, as the archeologist removed his spectacles and—with no dry material on hand—shook the frames to remove as much condensation from the lenses as he could.  It wasn’t much use.  They were, for lack of a better description, soaked and freezing. 

 

“Let’s take a five minute break, regain or bearings, and then get back out there.  We can’t waste much more time.” Daniel announced.

 

He caught what he would have normally assessed as being a sardonic expression cross the face of his partner, when the man, straightened his spine, planted his hands on his hips, and countered, “Where are we supposed to be going?  It ain’t like we’ve got ourselves a comprehensive map of anything.  We’ve been wandering the woods here wasting time already.  This thing could be anywhere.”

 

Daniel sighed.  It did feel like they were looking for the proverbial needle in a hay stack and failing miserably.  They had not found anything.

 

“What’tha?” the soldiers voice hissed from behind Daniel. 

 

The archeologist turned just in time to see the other man reaching a hand down to the ground, picking up what looked like a candy wrapper.  Daniel cringed as the thought provoked a memory to crop up unexpectedly, of Jack introducing Cindel to the rainbow colours of Smarties—“You have to eat the red ones last,” he had said—and the effects of the sugar and chocolate on her five year old body, unaccustomed to such treats, had been unbearably predictable.  Daniel had tried to warn him, naturally, and, of course, Jack hadn’t paid him any heed.  In fact, the scholar distinctly recalled that he had been called a “party pooper”, and had therefore left Jack to tend to the mess he himself had created.  Cindel’s non-stop inquiries had eventually worn the man’s reserves and she had been relinquished to run laps about the back yard with Farley, until it came time for the “sugar burnout” and they had collected her soundly slumbering form from a lawn chair to bring in to bed.  But this wasn’t a candy wrapper.

 

“This is a military ration.” Ferreti whispered, unshouldering a pack from his shoulders that Drydac had given them with a few essential provisions.  Daniel had closed the distance between them and taken the silver wrapper to inspect for himself, as the soldier rummaged for a light.  He discovered the same thing—it was an SGC ration wrapper, opened, and empty.  But from who…?

 

The white light illuminated the small cave entrance, enlightening the two to the fact that they had stumbled upon an abandoned camp—a SGC team’s camp.  Belongings were scattered in different distinct piles, packs and clothes, even an open yellow mineral collection kit, all around an extinguished fire.  The soldier squatted and held an open hand over the dark ash, then dared to poke the coals with his index finger.  “It’s been out less than twelve hours.”

 

“This is SG-1, it has to be.” Daniel whispered, eyeing a pack that looked fearfully familiar.  He bent down beside the black canvas bag and unzipped a pocket on the front flap.  There was a plastic sleeved photograph inside of a young boy—Charlie—and on the other side a young dark haired girl with startling blue eyes.  “Jack…”

 

There came a whistling sound, followed by the crackle of a radio, as Daniel realized Ferreti was answering a call on a communication device Drydac had proved him with.  “Ferreti here,” the soldier said, as he spoke into the pebble sized button attached to the collar of his BDU’s. 

 

“I can no longer find you with the vessel’s tracking system.  You need to get out of there.  There is a Goa’uld mothership that just de-cloaked near you.”

 

Ferreti rolled his eyes and Daniel could see him grind his teeth together, swearing under his breath.  Their gaze met and the soldier jerked his head towards the cave’s entrance.  “You heard the alien, doc, let’s book it out of here.  If Sg-1 was here, they sure as hell ain’t now.”

 

“But we haven’t found anything, one of us should stay and search the—“ the archeologist disagreed, pointing in the opposite direction to the back of the cave. 

 

“And chance letting you get caught by snake-heads?  I don’t think so.  You’re the only one that can help us.” Ferreti argued.

 

“If the Goa’uld get that device I won’t be any help to anyone.” Daniel countered forcibly, turning his back on the other man and heading deeper into the cave.  Over his shoulder he ordered, “Tell Drydac we will transport back up to the ship after we search this cave.” 

 

“But—dammit—Drydac?” the scholar heard the soldier calling to their alien counterpart left with his small crew in the vessel orbiting the planet, giving him a succinct account of their plan.  Drydac tried to disagree but it sounded as though Ferreti had cut him off—perhaps by turning off the tiny button sized transmitter.  Then the soldier lopped to catch him up, the white light of the glowing rod in his hand. 

 

The light illuminated what looked like a small winding tunnel through the rock, definitely not naturally occurring, with an obvious floor and even the odd existence of structural beams visible here and there along the way.  The path was dark and wet, the sound of dripping water the only sound that rivaled their boot falls.  They followed it in silence for a long stretch, until finally the tunnel turned a sharp corner and came to an abrupt end in a circular bubble like structure with a large flat wall space—very obviously not naturally occuring.  This wall structure was filled with images and ancient writings, the archeologist recognizing at least ten different distinct languages represented, ranging from hieroglyphics to cuneiform. 

 

“Well, this was a great detour, doc.  Very helpful.  Now let’s go.” Ferreti’s voice grated with irritation, as he turned to leave.

 

“No, wait.  Bring the light back.” Daniel ordered, turning to reach back and grab the soldier’s wrist.  Ferreti groaned his apprehension but obeyed. 

 

With the light fully illuminating the mismatch jumble of languages Daniel took a few moments to study them in turn.  It was the strangest thing he had ever seen.  One language melding and skipped through others, making absolutely no sense.  He translated in his mind, as his eyes transitioned from identifying each separately to systematically translating them in the order they appeared—this in itself was an amazing display of talent and knowledge but the soldier could only see it as a waste of time.

 

“This is going to get us caught or killed, Jackson.  There’s nothing here!  Let’s get the hell out of this death trap.” He roared, his feet tellingly fidgeting.

 

“Just a few more minutes.  There is something here. This, I think this is it.” The scholar tried to explain, his words and sentences clipped by the distraction of translating the wall before him.  Then it hit him, as Ferreti groanted and sputterered curses behind him.  He got it.  It all fell into place.  It was a cyphered skip code.  The tangled jumble of words and meanings, if all could be translated properly, pointing to a sequence, an access code.  Daniel stepped back from the wall a little so it was fully in his field of vision, and his hands pointed from each symbol as he said them aloud. 

 

As the last word left his mouth they heard a click and then the floor beneath them began to rumble.  Dust filled the chamber as a loud mechanical hiss rattled their ear drums.  Daniel shielded his face with his arms until the fog of dust cleared and the grate of stone on metal ended.  When he peered past his forearm he was amazed to see the wall was gone.  There was in its place an open entranceway into a room beyond.

 

“I can’t believe it.” Ferreti whispered, with a shake of his bewildered head, his wide eyes searching the metal room beyond them.  “You were right.”

 

Although the archeologist was proud to have his skills and expertise, so painstakingly earned over the years, commended by the soldier there was no time for it.  “I got the door open but we haven’t found the device yet.” Daniel replied, wasting no time before walking briskly through the doorway into the room, as Ferreti trailed after him, holding the glowing rod device Drydac had supplied them with high above his head. 

 

The room was strikingly similar to the bunker they had found Machelo in, now so many years in the past.  Lights turned on as they came deeper inside, quickly divulging the secrets that the darkness and shadows had tried to conceal.  There was nothing.  The room was empty.  There were no doors, no inscriptions, nothing.  Just a small antechamber with two adjoining alcoves.  All were empty.

 

Daniel gnashed his teeth in frustration and he heard Ferreti grunt a few swears.  They had come all this way, had figured all of this out, had risked so much, for nothing.  There was nothing here.  The archeologist quickly spun on his heel and marched out of the chamber, balling his fingers into fists to keep them from visibly shaking.  His anger and frustration was roiling.  They were back to square one—nowhere!  This had been a colossal waste of their precious time—time that Apophis would be using to plan and execute his attack on Earth. 

 

The scholar heard the soldier call something to him, as he tried to catch him up, but it didn’t slow his furious pace.  All he could think now was to get out, find Jack and SG-1, and get off this planet.  His mind was a flurry of activity as he marched ahead blithely, pros and cons of giving up this seemingly futile search criss-crossing his synapsis, mingling with his own self defeat, guilt, and moral obligations.  In the end, this was all on him.  Ferreti had been right—had hit that nail clean on the head—as much as he wanted to believe that the time shift had not caused all of this he also knew that of the three of them involved, he was the one who had to fix it. 

 

“Jackson, stop!” came Ferreti’s sudden hiss, as a demanding grip tried to grab his elbow.  The scholar was in no mood, his mind wrapped up in his own pressing theories and conclusions, he ripped himself away from the other man, stumbled over the rough ground, and found himself being slammed up against the rocky tunnel’s wall by an armored forearm, both powerful and unforgiving.

 

“Kree tal shal mak!” was spit at the scientist from a mouth bristling with white whiskers, the breath hot and intimidating against his skin, as the metal bracer on the man’s arm pressed dangerously against his collar bone and shoulder, biting through his sodden clothes against his skin.  His hands had instantly come to the forearm, instinctually moving to maneuver the capturing appendage from his person, but even with his glasses askew on his nose, the Jaffa was close enough for the scientist to recognize the weathered features and dark forbidding eyes that would brook no contest, and so he raised his hands in a plaintive sign of surrender.

 

“Oh, you are wise, Tau’ri, to surrender to me.” The older man said, giving a dark chuckle that rumbled out of his armored chest.  Then he released his pressure just a touch, Daniel was thankful for but a split second, before he was slammed back against the wall, hard enough to knock the breath out of his lungs, and crack the back of his skull against the rocky wall.  It was a splintering arch of pain, searing his lungs like liquid fire and radiating from the rounded curve of his occipital bone at the back of his pounding skull.  Through the haze of pain, the scholar could make out the Jaffa’s hissed warning, threatening him, “But surrendering will not save you, not from my wrath.  Tell me!  Who are you and why have you come to this place?”

 

Daniel felt his own tongue working his mouth, moistening his lips for talking, fighting the burning sensation that filled his lungs, keeping him from responding to the Jaffa.  This hesitation, as the Jaffa soldiers seen it, provoked the older guard’s anger.  The scholar felt the bracer jam further into his shoulder, the outside point of it digging so painfully and expertly into the joint that he gave a grunted yelp, before grinding his teeth together to fight the overwhelming overload on his nervous system.  Then he heard the sizzle of a staff weapon opening, the head of the deadly weapon parting to reveal the barrel inside, the point of which was pressed up against his right side, just beneath his rib cage.  He had to give them something—where was Ferreti?—he wasn’t sure if he could.  He licked his lips again and tried to reply, his voice gravely and hoarse, as he grunts only, “E-earth.”

 

“Earth?!” the old Jaffa blustered incredulously, with a guffaw of pernicious laughter.  His efforts only earned the scholar another slam against the wall, this time nearly hard enough to knock him out cold.  He could feel that the back of his head was wet, when suddenly he heard more commotion, a scuffle of boots on the rocky floor, the sizzle of more weapons preparing to fire, before the unmistakable drawl of the American soldier.

 

“You heard ‘em right, boys.  We’ve come from Earth.  We ain’t peckin’ for a fight a so let the doc go and I’m sure we can figure things out.”


	43. Chapter 43

Jack knew that he was dreaming.  Knew that what he was experiencing was real and that what he was seeing was not.  Daniel had explained to him how through the kara kesh Sha’uir had communicated with him, beyond the power of her capture held over her—although that had been years ago before the time shift.  In a dream-like state that felt very much like the here and now the pain of the excruciating torture device was replaced by the imagery being willed into the brain of the victim.  Yet somehow he knew that Daniel’s experience had been a little more pleasant than what he was going through. 

 

Jack was lost.  He knew that he was on Abydos, but had no recollection of how he had gotten there, and had taken shelter from a roiling sand storm in a temple.  To escape the blasting sand he had traversed down a dark tunnel, emerging into an interior antechamber, void of anything but the decorative hieroglyphs in gold relief that cluttered the walls from ceiling to floor in all directions.  The ancient paintings and writing glittered in the warm torch light from the small braziers that burned in the four corners of the square room.  There were three other open doorways to this chamber, each leading away into the darkness.  Standing before each rectangular doorway was a person, all of them standing stock still like stone statues, staring blankly outward into the chamber.  Sara was directly opposite him, soft brown hair in waves about her face.  Laira was to his left, in her pale dress and shawl, and Daniel stood to his right. 

 

A silver brow rose over a sable eye, as the man blinked again.  Nothing changed.  Whatever this was, it was happening.  “Well, this is creepy.” He muttered, with a sigh of frustration, as he shifted his stance and combed both his hands back through his cropped cut.

 

The soldier wasn’t too sure what was expected of him.  Was this a test, just a dream, or something more?  Here before him stood the three people in his life that he had shared a part of himself with that he guarded fiercely from others.  Each of them lifeless, like mannequins in a cheap horror film, their limbs frozen and their gaze glassy and unblinking—unnatural. 

 

Then suddenly, without warning, all three spoke at once, in complete unison, their voices mingling as they spoke, “Chose me, Jack.”

 

So, it was a test?  Was this to see who he would choose to be with if all three beckoned him to be with them solely?  He knew what his answer would be.  That much was simple.  The soldier wasn’t sure how to show it, so he strode simply across the room to the archeologist.  The other man didn’t move as he was approached.  His gaze stayed straight forward and unblinking.  Jack looked his lover over, from head to toe.  This was Daniel.  This was Daniel exactly the way Jack liked him, with his glasses off, his long hair windswept and tussled, the buttons at the top of his polo undone so his collar bone and long neck were exposed for his eyes to eat up.  Jack was doing just that when the scientist spoke, the other two women joining him once more to form a chorus, which demanded, “Come with me, Jack.”

 

At the sound of words spoken in complete unison by the three persons present the Colonel’s head had spun, eyeing each in turn before coming back to his archeologist.  The man was still stock still, frozen and lifeless as a statue, his normally breathtaking blue eyes glassy and…absent—Jack had trouble finding the words to describe it.  Surreal, creepy, unsettling…weird.  As the man’s mind worked to differentiate between knowing this wasn’t really happening and the very real presence of his surroundings and those in his company, the three of them spoke like robots again, as if on command, “Kiss me, Jack.”

 

It was startling and yet incredibly arousing.  The voices were not robotic, not fake, or replicated in any way.  They were real, amorous, and breathy, the way each of them had sounded as he made love to them—when he had loved them individually.  He remembered the way Sarah had made him dog after her, the way she had teased him long and hard before ever giving herself over to him completely.  He remembered the way Laira had cared for him, had tenderly taken him in and nurtured his irritable heart and soul, as he had cursed his stranded circumstances, giving of herself to sooth his aches as well as to stifle her own—a partnership of cooperative healing.  He remembered Daniel.  He remembered the way his heart had slowly transitioned from curtailing looks at Carter’s round backside in fatigues to pleasuring in the feel of the archeologist’s in his hands, as he finally gave in to the realization that the other man drove him wild.  He remembered the way the other’s body, hard, lean, and slick with the sweat of their enjoyment had caused such an insufferable, insatiable, need within him that even the distance of space and time couldn’t cause him to move on.  This had been his fit.  This man.  This one.

 

The Colonel’s own memories had been so incredibly lucid to his person then and there that he forgot about figuring and differentiating.  He reached forward and he longingly pressed his mouth against the lips of his lover, meeting the tender but unmoving, still frozen, mouth of the paralyzed thing before him.  There was a sudden reverberant scream—a tragic wailing of fear, loss, and pain—that shockingly rattled his eardrums.  Spinning on his heal he watched as the two other women were lost, sucked away back into the black doorways behind them, like wisps of smoke.  Jack stood there dumbfounded and gaping.  The entire scene had sent his heartrate skyrocketing and alarm bells ringing in his mind.  He shut his eyes and clung to the reminder that this wasn’t real, the only consolation he could find to aid the mounting anxiety clawing at his throat.  Then warm fingers took his hand.  He turned back to Daniel’s warm comforting smile.  “Come with me, Jack.” He whispered.  And he did.

 

The soldier followed his scholar, led like a child might allow a parent to lead them, without question, without anxiety, without fear.  The tunnel was dark, so dark that at one point Jack couldn’t even see his love before him as they continued forward.  Eventually they emerged, in a room Jack instantly recognized, despite the fact that it had been many years since he had stood there. 

 

It was Daniel’s small apartment, the living room in fact.  Everything was the same as he remembered it.  The coffee table was covered with National Geographic’s, text books, and a couple of beer bottles.  He saw an image of himself in his mind’s eye, sitting on the couch, pushed into the corner, an arm slung over the back of it and a foot propped up on a corner of the coffee table, as his own eyes leered almost begrudgingly at the archeologist on the other end, in his own respective corner, in his own space, both mentally and physically.  Jack remembered this time too.

 

He remembered the way that the beer had fueled the rage growing inside of him, warm like the brew in his gut, as he wrestled with his own mounting frustration, his growing arousal, and the damned ignorant man it was directed at.  Jack had pushed all the blame for the feelings tearing apart his brain and body, threatening to take complete control of his entire being, onto the archeologist that they all seemed to revolve around.  The Colonel had finally given up the Captain—which he had tried to use to distract himself from his now undeniable attraction to the man across from him—coming to the archeologist’s apartment that day he had intended to talk it out, give it a try, see what would happen if he…Daniel had been completely oblivious to everything, to his remarks, to his terrible attempt at flirting, and the two of them had ended up watching the boring documentary on Discovery, sitting miles apart on the couch, nursing their beers. 

 

It had all happened a little fast then.  Jack had snapped.  In his attempt to stifle his frustration, it had boiled into a rage, and he had popped like a cork.  In a blur he had launched across the couch like an animal taking down his quarry, his need to possess the other man a visceral action of greed, need, and desire.  His right hand had grabbed the other about the back of the neck, the startled archeologist turning in surprise, only to have his gaping mouth smothered in a commanding kiss.  Daniel had been so startled by Jack’s crushing form overtaking him that the two of them had ended up slipping off of the couch and onto the floor, knocking back the coffee table and spilling the beers on the carpet—a stain that never did come out, just like what had started that day could never be undone.

 

This image, the displayed memory that he had observed as though a spectator, evaporated.  The two mingling forms wisped into the air like particles of sand caught in a twisting upturn of wind, blowing away to leave the small living room empty, mirroring the loss that Jack himself felt, now more acutely than ever.  It had been this memory, along with many hours that had kept his heart aching during the long separation from his lover after the time shift.  It was the reason he couldn’t give up hope, couldn’t move on, couldn’t love another—not after having this man.  Not after Daniel.

 

“Come, Jack.” He heard his lover’s voice beckon.  The soldier turned his head towards the soft sound of the whispered command.

 

There was the man he had followed into the tunnel, now standing in the doorway to the bedroom that the two men had shared many times long ago.  His hair had fallen over his brow and away from behind his ear, the starkness of the bright blue depths of his eyes unhampered by the lenses of his glasses.  His arm was braced against the jam of the door, his body leaned against it, his long legs crossed at the ankles—a beckoning sight.  His torso was bare, the blue polo now missing, exposing every inch of the man that Jack desired, down the belt of his blue jeans—damn, he loved his archeologist in jeans, it was such a rare occurrence. 

 

Jack’s body reacted before his brain processed the reasoning behind this odd, yet alluring, stray from his lover’s characteristic behaviour.  He closed the distance between them nearly as fast as he had that first time, his hands taking the man’s neck and back firmly in his hands, crushing their bodies together.  The other man was receptive, his own mouth open expectantly as their lips met.  Jack ravished that mouth eagerly, his lust welling within his gut like a fire burning him up, as their tongues battled, lapped, and twisted between them.  Taking control of his willing lover, the soldier stepped between his legs, commandingly directing the other back, until his knees met the mattress. 

 

The Colonel pushed the scholar back, the other body falling without surprise or contempt onto the soft bedding behind him.  Cat like, Jack slunk down the mattress, padding into position over top of the man who he straddled.  He lowered his head, nipping kissing against a mouth that raised up, ardent to meet his own.  Daniel was not one to beckon, yet here he had.  He also wasn’t one to be passively taken, despite his peaceful passive sentiments in the field.  Hands came up, capturing the soldier holding their mouths together, fighting for control.  He may vie for it but that didn’t mean he would win it.

 

Jack pushed back on the man’s shoulders, separating their lusting mouths.  That earned him a cheeky grin of disappointment from below.  The soldier knew better than to give in.  He slid his hands back, pressing on the others biceps, pinning his arms more effectively, as he leaned back with his hips, finding his lovers bucking up to greet him.  Jack brought his head down to a throat that fervidly exposed its length for his lapping tongue and nipping teeth, eliciting a zealous groan of approval as he continued his attentions southward.  He could feel the other straining to be released, as Jack’s ministrations centered around on pert nipple and then over to the other, his lover restless beneath him.  Daniel moaned again, the sound so amorous that the Colonel could stand it no longer.

 

Jack bounced back off the bed to his feet, his fingers gripping the belt of the man’s jeans, tearing the buttoned fly open only to rip the jeans down the length of the man’s tight thighs, exposing the engorged member beneath unhindered and free of any underwear.  Jack brought his head down, mouth open to take the swollen cock into his open mouth, his hands reaching under to grip the tensing muscles of the other man’s backside, as hands gripped the sides of his head and the man groaned loudly again.  He set a furious pace, eager to please the other that moaned so appreciatively, slowly driving him nuts as his own lust swelled.  He could taste the salt of his lovers already weeping member on his tongue before he finally let off, standing back as Daniel’s hands tore at his own fatigues.  When his own length of cock was exposed he pushed the other back down onto the mattress again, spreading his legs, and probed his opening with the swollen tip.  The man’s entrance was surprisingly slick, as if in preparation for Jack’s lust, and the Colonel didn’t hesitate to plunge himself inside.  Two short hard stroke and he was satisfyingly embedded within his lover, the man’s hard breaths against his shoulder, as he pulled back only to plunge in swifter. 

 

Daniel’s arms were around him, his hands gripping furiously to hang on, as Jack set a furious pace, his own lust demanding it.  He felt Daniel’s long hair tickling brush against his cheek and he raised up, his hands gripping the other around the hips as he leaned into his thrusting, looking down at the body he took. 

 

In complete shock and horror the Colonel tore back, his feet hitting the floor and scrambling.  The pants around his knees tripped him and the man fell roughly backwards onto his backside, as the woman rose up before him.  She stood over him, her large breasts exposed and pink from arousal, her wide hourglass hips extenuated by the commanding stance she held, as her large dark eyes forebodingly narrowed in scrutiny at him.

 

“You should have finished, human,” the controlled goa’uld voice informed him, before the head dipped, black curls bobbing.  Furious eyes opened upon him, suddenly brimming with rage-filled tears, as her right hand raised, displaying the threatening red glowing orb of the ribbon device.


	44. Chapter 44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well well we have come to the end. Wow! This has been something else! I really truly amazing year of 'Second Chance'. This was a challenge that I had personally given myself, to start something and finish it, to update as regularly as possible, and I am so amazed at those that have chosen to follow it right along with me. I just wanna take this time to say THANK YOU. I have cherished your comments and your endless encouragement. Time to move on and start new adventures. So stay tuned.

Chapter 44:

 

Daniel’s heart was pounding in his chest, the muscles in his legs pumping, as he pressed to follow behind the older Jaffa that led their small group of rebels through the Goa’uld mothership.  Teal’c flanked his other side, a strange but comforting presence, as altogether they worked systematically to take control of the ship and rescue the captured SG-1 team.  All he could think about was finding Jack.

 

They came to the end of a twisting turning hallway, shooting down any Jaffa that did not surrender on sight, coming to a dead end that boasted tall ornately carved golden doors.  This was the Lord’s chamber, there was no mistaking it.  Teal’c did not hesitate, he slammed his back against the door, as Bra’ tac raised his open staff weapon, finger ready on the trigger.  The doors opened up onto a wide expansive room, with two thrones a top an alter. 

 

“This way,” the younger Jaffa instructed, his trained hands making his own weapon ready.  They quietly rushed through the lavish room, the traitorous first prime knowing where to take them.  They found smaller door around an expanse of hanging drapery, the Jaffa’s hand expertly taking to the control panel to type in an access code.  All three stood back, as the doors mechanically retracted open, revealing another large room, dominated by a circular lounge area filled with cushions, pillows, and sheets of fabric, in shimmering silks, soft velvets, and some plush alien furs.  Daniel had his own weapon ready, the small zat-gun sweeping the room.

 

A woman stood there—Amounet, the Queen—and Daniel recognized the disheveled dark curls, the round exposed breasts, and the tempting curves of her body.  “Sha’uir…” he mouthed her name, the point of the gun dropping.  It wasn’t as surprising as it was agonizing.  He should have known.  He should have expected as much.

 

Those umber eyes leaking wet tears over her high cheek bones and the raw burn the dark depths of those eyes, as she stood there, eyes furiously burrowing into the three intruders.  Her full lips finally curled back into a crazed snarl and she raised her hand threateningly, displaying the power she held in the palm of her hand.  Teal’c’s  finger twitched on the trigger of the staff weapon, apprehensively alert and aware of the deadly weapon.  Yet she did not turn it on them.  Her hands, now raised, slowly drifted to the side, the glowing red orb in her palm facing another.

 

Daniel saw him.  “Jack!” the name came from his lips in a panic yet he didn’t dare move.  Didn’t dare tempt the Queen’s wrath.  His lover’s prone body lay sprawled back in the cushions and blankets, naked. 

 

The archeologist’s eyes examined his form, could see no wound, no blood, no breathing.  His gaze did not waver from the other man until the voice of his wife broke the tension and the silence in the room.  “Now we know,” she said, her melodious voice twisted and mocking, yet untainted by the deep alien timbers of the snake twisted inside her head.  “We know now how it is that O’Niell took our beloved from us.”

 

“I’m not your beloved!” the scholar hissed through grit teeth, as his blue eyes flashed back to the woman he had once called ‘wife’.  His actions were lost in his own tumultuous pain, agonized by guilt and pity to see the once strong and beautiful creature twisted and contorted by her own rage and the power of the beast within her.  Vehemently he spat the truth at her, “I was your husband!”

 

“You were once,” her voice cracked, a slight whimper breaking the words that slowly left her tongue.  Then the voice steeled with hatred and she raged, “until he took you from us!  Now we have taken him from you and you will return to us, our beloved!”

 

In a flash her hand came up, the orb emitting an orange surge of power over the Colonel’s prone body, as the zat’nik’tel issued two blasts.  Her spine cracked straight with the blue-tinged electrical surge that coursed through her human system, the fiery orb in her hand pulsed and then died, as her eyes closed, her legs failed, and the goddess crumbled onto the pillows behind her. 

 

Daniel’s eyes left the dead tyrant and instead his eyes focused on the other prone body— _Jack!—_ as he only vaguely registered others moving behind him.  The archeologist fell to his knee by his lover’s side, cradling the head, as his fingers moved to find a pulse.  The man had been beaten, that much was obvious by the cuts and bruising that marred his temple, cheeks, and chin.  There was a deep gash to his shoulder, slicing and yet cauterized, that slightly wept a clear fluid—painful to assess let alone bare.  There was the slight purplish hint of bruising along his ribs and flank that would no doubt darken to be revealed gruesomely in time.  Yet, despite how bad he looked, there a pulse. 

 

“Jesus, Doc?!” came a cry of alarm and disgust as Ferreti came skidding to a stop, with a half dozen free-Jaffa trailing after him.  His eyes were wide with surprise but quickly narrowed with acceptance and resolve, as he took in the scene.  His fingers found the round transmitter on the lapel of his jacket and without hesitation he gave the order for Dry’dac to lock-on.  A second later Daniel was enveloped in a white light, he felt the queasy weightlessness of being transported, and so he wrapped a protective arm around his Colonel.

 

***

 

The smell of meat sizzling on the large barbeque grill was tantalizing to his palate.  The steak was grade A and being cooked just the way that he liked it, medium rare.  With a beer one hand and his other petting the head of his loyal golden retriever, who longing whined for attention at his side, Jack supposed that he was just about as happy as he could be.

 

Daniel was standing at the grill, tending the cooking meat, in a new pair of jeans that fit like a glove, eventuated by the way the black apron was tied at the small of lithe back.  Jack took a moment to satisfyingly admire that backside, set below the square shoulders, clad in a nicely fitting tee.  His long neck was slightly exposed, the dusting of his longer brown hair had fallen away with the tip of his head to watch the sizzling grill, now trimmed and neat—thank goodness still long enough to temptingly beckon for him to run his fingers through. 

 

A peel of childish laughter called the archeologist’s attention and the man’s head spun alertly to glance down over the railing of the deck into the back yard.  His blue eyes crystal clear in the afternoon sunshine, behind updated glasses that the fiery red head had demanded he consider.  Her taste was impeccable.  One afternoon out with the feline temptress and Daniel had come back looking like a men’s magazine model from head to toe, outfitted with all he would need now that he was back here, settled in, on the planet Earth for good. 

 

The archeologist turned back towards Jack, his mouth beaming with a pleased smile.  The blue rimmed specs made his eyes all that more brilliant, the square cut accentuating those cheek bones and the lick-able curve of his jaw.  The other man waved the metal paddle-sized spatula at the Colonel, commenting, “The sprinkler was a good idea.”

 

Then there was the thunderous pound of little bare feet taking the deck steps as fast as her little body could propel her and Jack was assaulted by a sopping wet five year old, jumping into his lap.  Laughing and giggling she wrapped her small olive-colored arms around his neck, capturing his face to peck a kiss on each cheek.  She pulled back, rather surprised, wiping her mouth with her hands roughly, as Cindel complained, “Ow, you’re poky!” 

 

“You betcha!” he roared back, clamping an iron tight grip and around the squirming soaking-wet child.  Roughly he growled and rubbed his stumbled chin against her neck and cheeks, as she squealed with laughter, her little hands deftly attempting to push off her aggressor.  Farlely barked and Jack could hear the dog whine and jump, excited by the banter.  It wasn’t long and the squirming paid off, the little girl slipping out of his grip and off of his lap, dancing away with her retriever obediently behind her. 

 

Jack took a moment to catch his breath, chuckling to himself as he watched her go—so happy and care free—running back in her neon pink and green bathing suit to the sprinkler still running down in the yard below.  A part of him wished he could throw her giggling into the spray, but her father was already eyeing him with a reproving look.  Defensively he raised his hands and innocently chided, “What?”

 

There was the threatening wave of spatula in his direction, as the other man glanced down his straight nose at the Colonel, stretched out in his lounge chair.  “Don’t ‘what’ me.  You know what.” Daniel reprimanded, a quirk unbidden at the corner of his mouth deflating his attempt to chastise his lover. 

 

Jack felt his mouth stretch into a grin, that the archeologist no doubt felt looked overly smug, as their attention was distracted by the slide of the patio doors.  Through the door appeared Skaara, face beaming, as he held the hand of the red-headed temptress that followed him out onto the patio.  Greetings were shared and the couple grabbed a seat close by the grill, cracking beers that Jack tossed to them from the cooler of ice at his side.  Not long after Sam appeared through the doors, carrying a large vegetable platter in her hands, which she brought out to the small table off to the side, and after her came Teal’c. 

 

Jack tipped his head at the stoic free-Jaffa, who sported a baseball cap over his thick head of curls, effectively covering the gold alien salve-brand on his forehead, lest the neighbors talk.  Teal’c carried a large bowl of what looked like Sam’s fancy German potato salad, the top dusted red with paprika and spotted green with crispy slices of green onion.  He tipped his head in return, the line of his mouth curling upwards in greeting.

 

It was like old times almost.  The gang was back together—with a few new faces.  And hell there was going to be steak.  He had all he needed right here. 

 

Sam came to sit next to the Colonel, accepting the can of beer he offered her.  She cracked it as she sat back in her chair and Daniel announced the steaks would be done shortly.  Her blue eyes met Jack’s and he could feel her acute attention-to-detail gaze sweep his person, before she asked, “How’s the shoulder, sir?”

 

Jack shrugged and then winced, displaying all he needed to convey the idea.  It was still sore.  The muscle had been torn deeply and being the weapon had cauterized as it sliced his flesh it was making the wound difficult to repair.  He had many stitches and a bruise the size of a dinner plate.  The superficial cuts and bruises to his handsome face were almost gone, thanks to Daniel’s constant attentions, and over-all he was itching to get back to active duty.  The team had been grounded since his injury, handling small things here and there where they could under Daniel’s direction and the General’s orders.  There had been a lot to clean up.

 

Thanks to Daniel and Ferreti running into the rebel Jaffa’s their quick partnership had proven to be the clincher in defeating Amounet and effectively stalling Apophis’ war plans.  The free-Jaffa were strong and had infiltrated a large portion of the snake-heads forces, allowing the uprising to be quick and effective.  Apophis was still a force to reckoned with but the fear of an immediate attack was well off their shoulders.  The alliance now formed between Earth, the Vashen, the Ascard, and the free-Jaffa maintaining a strong front against the recovering Goa’uld armies. 

 

Drey’dac had given the Ascard Machello’s time machine, so the device would be kept in capable hands, and life had returned to a new kind of normal.  This was their life.  This was their time. 

 

“Can’t wait to be released, Captain.” He whispered back to the blond, garnering a smirk of her pretty mouth.  “I’m starting to feel like a prisoner.”

 

“When you’re ready.” Came the archeologist’s swift reply.

 

“I am ready.” Jack spat back.

 

“Okay, let me rephrase,” Daniel amended, in a negotiating tone, “when I say that you’re ready.”

 

“Dictator.” Jack growled, the words garbled as he brought the can of beer to his lips for a strong swig.  The Colonel was use to giving orders, not taking them, even with Daniel.  Since he had been recovering though he had been forced to take a lot of orders.  Daniel was a capable father and now the soldier was seeing that he could fill in as a very capable mother hen as well.  The man could balance working for the SGC from home, the laundry, cleaning, and taking care of Jack, with more finesse than the soldier had expected.  His cooking wasn’t the greatest but Jack could live with that.

 

Skaara chuckled and added in, “Look, O’Niell, we will take you back when you can convincingly lift a gun with that arm.”  It surprised the Colonel how clean and clear the boys English had become in such a short time on Earth—of course he was sure that the red headed linguist had something to do with that and that the young man was more than eager to take any instruction he could garner from the woman. 

 

Jack pointed a threatening finger at the younger man, who sported a cheeky grin, and protested gruffly, “I can lift with it!”

 

“A beer can doesn’t count, Jack.” Daniel reminded him smoothly, just as the Colonel was lifting his beer to prove his point, getting a rise out of all present.  Even Teal’c’s deep rumbling chuckle joined the chorus of hilarity at the soldier’s expense. 

 

The archeologist, always the negotiator and willing to placate, turned around then, his brilliant blue eyes sparkling in the sunlight behind the well-suited frames sported on the straight bridge of his nose as he cast them down warmly to meet the Colonel’s.  There was a brief moment of eye contact only, that Jack couldn’t help but find alluring, before the full lips of his scientist’s mouth pulled from a smile to speak, in a diplomatic tone that brook no argument, “That’s not to say that we won’t be working very hard to get you to that point, Jack.  The sooner I can get you back out there and in the field the better.”  Then he closed the short distance between them with a large step forward and bent down to press his mouth chastely against the soldier’s—which gained the two of them a loud whoop from all present that transitioned quickly into warm chuckles of laughter.  Jack could feel his cheeks burning as Daniel broke the kiss but lingered, so close the tips of their noses brushed, his mouth a light with a smile just for the soldier, as if they were the alone on the deck.   

 

“I like my steak medium-rare, Dan-yel,” Skaara teased, pointing at the smoke softly pluming up from the grill as the fat melted and dripped into the orange flames below. 

 

The archeologist straightened and returned to his task, truly as if kissing Jack openly before their friends was as casual as returning his stacks of library books to the librarian.  Jack was less insouciant but guessed he could get used to it.  Daniel gave his brother a less than friendly barb about having already purposely burned the young man’s portion, as he grabbed his prepped platter and began to load it with perfectly cooked rib-eyes. 

 

With the meat ready they all dished up and returned to their seats, forgetting there was a table outside, and gathering close round to eat off their laps and talk together in a circle.  The conversation was light and genial, as all enjoyed the beer and the meal.  Cindel provided some entertainment for the group as she showed off a princess ball gown, which she had donned while their backs were turned, that was now soaked through by water from the sprinkler she had run through with it on. 

 

The little girl truly was the reason Jack could not take Dry’dac’s tempting offer.  The alien, who realized that much had been saved and much had been lost by the time-shift, had wasted no time offering Daniel and Jack the opportunity to return—to change things back to the time line they had know, with the grace period they needed to avoid the Vashen altogether.  Daniel had been tempted, coaxed by guilt for the destruction of Abydos that still haunted his thoughts and the death of their friends at the hands of the aliens, but Jack had remained firm.  No change.  Not now, not ever again. 

 

The pain of the consequences cumulated by the decision made was already healing.  Even after everything that had happened and all that they had gone through Jack wouldn’t give it up.  Wouldn’t give her up.  Daniel had agreed, reaffirmed that his daughter’s birth and life was a miraculous gift given even in the midst of the tragedies that had followed.  Time wasn’t to be played with and so the decision had swiftly been made that the Ascard were the only race capable of guarding or destroying such technology, which ever their council deemed fit. 

 

And it wasn’t weird anymore to have little footsteps ringing through the halls of his home, to share his bed again with the man that he loved, and to give up hockey for cartoons or documentaries now and again.  It was the most normal the soldier had ever felt and dammit he would fight to protect that.  To protect her and him.

 

THE END


End file.
